Looking back, Moving Foward
by 153alira
Summary: Baggins are respectable folk, even Marie is considered so. But such things are soon thrown out the door when a wizard arrives on her doorstep and 13 dwarves raid her pantry. Childhood dreams that turned to bittersweet memories can be healed, but what has a king got to do with it?
1. It began with a Hobbit

**Diclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Okay, so I want to see how this concept goes for me. Tell me your thoughts on whether or not I should continue. Lots of love.**

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_'In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty dirty wet hole full of worms and oozing smells, this was a hobbit hole, which means good food, a warm hearth, and all the comforts of home.'_

The pages of the book closed, cutting off the rest. "What have I told you about reading over one's shoulder Frodo?" Marie Baggins chastised her young nephew, "It is both frightfully rude and very distracting."

"I was only ..."

"When I am finished, you may read it. But until then you and the rest of the world will have to wait."

The young hobbit smiled and patted his aunt's shoulder. He placed the handful of letters on top of the old writing desk and out of the corner of his sharps eyes, he spotted a drawing sitting on top of a pile of books. The parchment was old and rough to the touch, but the image itself remained in good condition, as if it had been freshly drawn.

It was a portrait of a she hobbit, with a rounded face with long curls falling around it, a handsome nose and bright eyes that held an enormous amount of secrets behind them.

If Frodo didn't know any better he could have sworn that he was staring at the younger face of his aunt.

"Sticky beak, that's private." Marie snatched away the drawing and hid it within the black pages of her book. "Now what have you brought me?"

"Responses to the party invitations."

"My word, it's not today is it? I've lost track of time again." But Frodo was barely listening, and was loitering through the dwarven artifacts ... again. "They all said that they're coming, except for the Sackville-Baggins. They're demanding that you answer them in person."

"I'd be perfectly content for them not to come. Saves me from a headache then." Marie placed her quill back into the ink pot and wiped her hands on her burgundy skirt, "Frodo, please put that down before you cut yourself."

Frodo just scoffed, "The blade is as dull as a spoon."

Marie stood up straight and placed her hands on her hips, "I've seen orcs being killed with a spoon Frodo Baggins, now what makes you think you'd be any safer."

He promptly placed the strange weapon back into the large foot locker.

"You know they won't be happy." He went on to say, to which Marie pulled an expression as if to say 'You think I care?' as she passed him. Though her face was careworn and lined, the old hobbit still held that fiery spark of youth and humor. You would not think her to be one hundred and eleven.

"They seem to think you tunnels overflowing with gold."

"It was only one smelly chest, and only half of it was gold." She began stashing all the precious goods into drawers and cupboards, "Sixty years and I still can't get the smell of troll out of it. Perhaps I should give it to her as a present."

"Who? And what are you doing?" Frodo asked as he watched her work.

"Secondly, taking precautions. Firstly, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins that's who. Once tried to make off with all my best cloths she did, and my silverware." Marie closed the last of the drawers, "Always keep a weather eye on her Frodo."

"I always do."

"Good lad." Marie smiled. Frodo may have had the bearing of his father, but his spirit was indeed very much kindred to her own. Itching for adventure, but still very comfortable with life in the Shire ... well, Frodo was comfortable.

Recently she had felt quite ... confined, restless and quite frankly bored with life as it was.

"Oh before I forget," She rushed into the living room and took out a large piece of parchment ah began writing, "I need you to put this on the gate for me."

"Aunt Marie?" She head Frodo say from behind her, "People are beginning to talk."

"My dear Frodo, that's all people round here do."

"They think you're becoming odd and ... unsociable." Marie could feel Frodo's insecurity about the topic. "They've been saying that for decades now. Once a spinster, always a spinster, no matter how wealthy." She brushed off the issue and handed the sign to Frodo.

Frodo glanced from the sign to his aunt, then shook his head in defeat.

This made Marie chuckle heartily, and she thanked all the stars in the heavens that she still retained her wits about her. She sighed and glanced out the window fondly.

'_Blunt the knives, bend the forks. Smash the bottles and burn the corks. Chip the glasses and crack the plates, that's Marie Baggins hates.'_

She could still hear the blasted song ringing through Bag End.

xxxxxxx

The two Baggins worked under the blue skies. Frodo started to hammer in the nails for the sign while Marie tended to her garden, a small pipe sticking out from her mouth. Everyone could agree that, even though Marie Baggins was odd, she had one of the finest gardens in Hobbiton. The green door of Bag End shone with many different colours as they stretched across the hillside, every bloom and every patch were pristine.

Even as the years came and went and the season ravaged and feed the land, Marie could maintain its beauty.

"Marie, why did you never marry?" Frodo asked, holding the nails in his mouth as he worked. Had he been looking at her, he would have seen his aunt faltered slightly. The masses of grey curls that covered her face would have hidden the glimmer of sadness from any prying eyes.

"As I have said before, I have my reasons." She answered curtly, and she began to fiddle with the silver ring she always wore on her right index finger, dragging her nail along the single rune carved into it.

"But surely you had your eye on someone at some point?"

"A woman never reveals the secrets of the heart Frodo. Learn that and you might get a wife."

"Shame really. You looked like quiet a beauty back in the day."

"And what's to say I'm not still that beauty today?" She dramatically waved her pipe above her head. "Don't you find my wrinkles alluring? Does the salt and pepper shade of my hair not shine in the sun? Rest assured, I can even sway elves."

Frodo was reduced to a fit of giggles and struggled to finish his job without crushing his fingers. Marie's job was done, for he ceased to ask about it.

As she plucked some fresh daisy for the kitchen, Frodo announced his intention of heading off to Eastfarthing wood. "I'm off to surprise Gandalf."

"Well go on then, you don't want to be late." Marie watched the young hobbit take off down the path with a new book in hand. Once he was out of sight, her face softened and she was filled with a sense of melancholy. She placed the small bouquet in her gardening basket along with her tools, and took one last puff of the long bottom leaf.

She cut a single rose from the rose bush and proceeded to venture up the side of Bag End to the large tree that stood tall above her home. There she found the small moss covered stone plaque nestled at its base, covered in dwarf runes. Only she knew what was written, and was happy to keep it that way.

"Another year." She said softly, hearing the age in her voice, "It's strange that they should fly by so quickly now, when they went so painfully slow to begin with." She dusted the dirt away and placed the rose on the plaque. "Perhaps it means that my days are finally drawing near, I can certainly feel it in my bones nowadays."

Marie turned her eyes east, as if searching for something. "I'd like one more adventure, before I join you."

A thrush entered her sight, darting and weaving across the sky.

"I'll take that as a sign I suppose."


	2. A Party of Thirteen

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Enjoy ch. 2**

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It had all began in Marie's garden sixty years ago. Back then she was much younger but a tad pessimistic for a hobbit and very reserved. Her hair was a light chestnut brown mess she could barely keep under control, her youthful beauty had started to harden with the appearance of frown lines in between her eyebrows.

She lived on her own and spent her days much the same as any Baggins would. She shopped in the local market, attendant the necessary gatherings, politely talked when spoken to. She was entirely respectable, despite also being a Took.

She had been weeding along the gate when a shadow fell overhead. She looked up from under her straw hat expecting to see a cloud obscuring the sun, and instead saw an old wizard standing in the middle of the path. She guessed he was a wizard, for who else would wear such a funny hat and carry a wooden staff.

She was surprised to say the least, and even more surprised when it appeared he was waiting for her to speak. "Um ... Good morning."

"What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it to be or not or that you feel good this morning or that it is a morning to be good on?"Said the wizard.

Marie was so befuddled, she had forgotten that her mouth was hanging open. "I guess ... all of them at once.

The wizard continued to just stare at her, calculating from under that bushy beard.

"May I help you with something?" Marie returned her attention to her garden, not liking this amount of attention at all. "That remains to be seen. I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."

Maire's head snapped up and she stared at the wizard. Adventure? Her? Such a thing hadn't crossed her mind in years. "Well, I can't imagine anyone this far west of Bree would have much interest in such things." She pulled out the last of the weeds and started to pack up her tools. "You're better off back that way than here." She picked up her basket and quickly nodded her head, "Good morning," She said again, ducking her face and made her way to the door. The wizard sighed and shook his head.

"To think that should have lived to be 'Good morning'd by Belladonna Took's daughter like I was selling buttons at the door."

Marie stopped dead in her tracks.

"You've changed, and not for the better I'm afraid Mariellena Baggins."

She turned and looked at him again. "How do you ...? Do we know eachother?"

"Well you do know my, although you don't remember that I belong to it. I'm Gandalf, and Gandalf means ... me." He opened up his arms as though to give the hobbit a better look at him. After a moment of searching, she finally recalled him.

"Midsummer's Eve." She said, pointing at him, "Old Took used to have fireworks made by Gandalf the Wandering Wizard. They were absolutely amazing, best part of the evening besides watching Old Took get drunk." In that moment, Marie's face brightened slightly as she remembered such times, and Gandalf hopes were lifted. But the light faded, and her smile dropped into a sensible line.

He sighed and appraised the matter at hand. "It's seems the spark has dwindled somewhat. Very well then, it's decided then."

Marie glanced from side to side, "What's decided?"

"It'll be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others." Gandalf nodded and gathered up his grey cloak.

"Wait, wait, wait, no." Marie was all flustered and not quite sure what was going on. "No. I do not want any adventures thank you. Not now, not ever." She said, cheeks flushed crimson. Pulling her hat further over her face, she nodded one last time and huffed "Good morning," before disappearing into Bag End, locking the door behind her.

Gandalf cocked his head at her behaviour. This was certainly not the same little girl from all those years ago so full of life and eagerness. He made his way to the door and carved the mark into the wood.

He was certain that this was indeed what Marie Baggins needed.

The rest of Marie's day went without any other strange encounters or happenings, in fact apart from that morning it would have just been another day.

'_Perhaps I just imagined it all.'_ She thought to herself as she cooked her dinner, a nice fresh fish with some new herbs to try.

By why would she imagine Gandalf? She had not thought about him since she was a child. Nor had she thought about adventures. Hey brought to many memories. She decided to just forget about it and move on. But just as she finished cooking, the door bell rang.

"Who on earth?"

She wrapped her cardigan about herself and headed to the door. On the other side however stood a very large and very dangerous looking dwarf. For a moment Maire was filled with the sense that she was about to be robbed, but the dwarf bowed to her, "Dwalin, at your service."

"Ugh ... Marie Baggins at ... yours." She said, awkwardly bowing and curtsying at the same time. The large dwarf entered before she could say another to words. "Is it down her lassie?"

"I'm sorry what ...?"

"Supper."

Despite how utterly confused she was, Marie forfeited her own meal to please the dwarf. She watched helplessly as he devoured the fish. He looked like he could snap her in two so she decided to humour him for as long as she could.

Then the bell rang again.

"That'll be the door." Dwalin said with his mouth full.

"Yes I know, thank you."

It was another dwarf. Shorter and much older though, he did not give off the impression that he would harm her. "Balin, at your service." He bowed. Marie relaxed a little, "Good evening."

"Yes it is, but I think it my rain later. I hope I'm not too late." Balin shook her hand firmly. "Late?"

"Ah, haha, evening Brother." Balin turned his attention to Dwalin, who was trying to steal cookies out of a jar.

'These two are brothers?' Marie thought as she closed the door. They were laughing and looked like they were about to embrace one another, but proceeded to head but eachother, startling the poor hobbit.

"Now umm ... excuse me but I'm not quite sure ..."

The two dwarves ignored her and headed off to the pantry. Marie shook her head in disbelief, "What am I invisible?"

The door bell rang again.

"Oh for goodness sake." Marie threw open the door and saw, to her dismay, more dwarves. "Fili," "And Kili, at your service." They bowed together and grinned at her. They were young and very peppy from the looks of things.

"You must be Miss Boggins."

"Sorry, wrong house." Marie tried to close the door, but couldn't with the pair of them in the doorway. "What? Has it been cancelled?

"No one told us."

'_What the hell is going on!?'_ Marie's patience was growing short, "Nothing's been cancelled, I ..."

The one named Kili pushed though into the hallway and started to remove his weapons. "That's a relief."

"Careful with these love. I just had them sharpened." The other one, Fili, handed an assortment of knives to Marie. "Then why are you giving them to me? Hey, that's my mother's glory box!" She shouted ad Fili who was wiping his dirty shoes on it. She struggled under the weight of so many weapons as the two young dwarves were taken away by Dwalin.

"Come and give us a hand lads."

The four of them had converged in the dining room and had begun to move the chairs and cabinets around. "Let's get this into the hallway otherwise we'll never get everyone in."

"Wait, how many more of you are there?"

_Ring Ring._

"Go away!" Marie shouted and dumped the weapons onto a footlocker on her way to the door. "Benjamin Brandybuck, if this is your idea of a joke, I will personally beat you over the head with a frying pan!"

She opened the door and eight dwarves literally fell at her feet. Standing behind them was none other than Gandalf, with a cheery smile on his face.

"Good evening Maire." He said.

"Gandalf." Marie shook her head.

The dwarves stood up and eventually introduced themselves one by one. Maire's head however could not process what was happening. Soon her entire pantry was empty and lay all over the dining room table, her father's best ale had been opened, every piece of silverware and every plate had been used for this sudden feast.

While the thirteen 'guests' ate and made merriment, Marie was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She stared despondent at the bare shelves of the pantry and the mud covering her family's good rugs, barely containing herself.

'_It's alright Marie, just breath. Breathing is the key.'_ She thought, taking each breath very carefully. The belching contest did not help at all.

"That is not a cloth, give it here." Marie snatched back the dolly from Dori. Or was it Nori? Some of the dwarves had spread out into the kitchen and were causing more mess.

"Ya right there lass. Your head looks like an apple." Bofur said, taking another sip of ale. "I am NOT alright." She growled.

"Marie dear, what's the matter" Gandalf ducked under the doorway and joined them.

"Gandalf, a word please?" Marie walked with speed into the vacant hallway with the wizard trailing behind, "Maybe you can explain why my home is now a mad house?"

"Good gracious. You may be over reaction just a little."

"You would be too if twelve strangers came into _your_ home, stole all the food and used _your_ dollies as napkins." Marie rubbed her face roughly, "I just want to know what is going on."

" 'scuse me?" Ori appeared out of the dinning, holding out an empty plate, "I hate to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

Marie calmed a little, At least this one had some manners. "Just pop into the kitchen please."

"I'll take it Ori." Fili snatched up the plate the threw it sharply at Kili, how tossed it into the kitchen. Marie's temperature went up again. "Don't. That pottery is over a ..." She ducked as more plates and bowels came flying out of the dining room, " ... a hundred years old!"

Bofur, Gloin, Nori and Dori started mucking around with the silverware, large grins on all their faces. "Don't do that. You'll blunt them."

"Ya hear that lads? She says we'll blunt the knives." Bofur teased.

"_Blunt the knives and bend the forks_!" Kili started to sing, and his brother joined him, knocking bowels with his elbows. "_Smash the bottles and burn the corks_!"

"_Chip the glasses and crack the plates!  
That's what Marie Baggins hates_!"

"_Cut the cloth and tread the fat!  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!  
Splash the wine on every door_!"

All twelve dwarves joined in with the song and tossed the plates all around the room. Marie tired to catch some, but Kili beat her to it every time. Amazingly as he did, he grabbed Marie's hand and twirled her about, like it was nothing more than a dance.

"_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl,  
Pound them up with a thumping pole,  
And when you've finished, if any are whole,  
Send them down the hall to roll_!"

The dwarves were having a grand old laugh, some bring out instruments to accompany their singing. Marie was getting dizzy and clutched the wall to steady herself. She braced herself to see the damage done in the kitchen, now with everyone crammed into it.

"_That's what Marie Baggins hates_!"

Marie's jaw dropped. All the plates and bowels had been washed and stacked perfectly on the clean table with the dwarves and Gandalf standing around it, laughing at her expression, Kili the most vocal about it. "Just look at that face!" He and Balin were leaning eachother laughing away.

"If you find the face of one who's just about to have a bleeding heart attack you have a very sick sense of ...

_Bang Bang Bang!_

" ... humor ..."

All the dwarves went silent, and turned their heads to the door. They knew who it was.

"He is here." Gandalf broke the silence.

Marie groaned and cupped her face in her hands, "I can't deal with another one." Ori patted her on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"I shall answer the door Marie, take your time." Gandalf said and mover to the front door. Perhaps he worn her out a little too early, but dwarves were ease to get used to.

He opened the wrong door to reveal the long awaited king himself, Thorin Oakensheild. "Gandalf." He acknowledged the wizard, "You told me this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice." Everyone clamored to get a glimpse of their leader, all except Maire how struggled to squeezed through.

"Wouldn't have found it at all hadn't it been for that mark on the door." As Thorin removed his traveling cloak and passed it to Kili, Marie finally got past the barricade in the doorway.

"Mark?" She tried to inspect it, but Gandalf quickly closed, "Yes, I hope you don't mind. I left it there this morning." He smiled, trying to defuses the hobbit's flaring anger.

"Mariellena Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakensheild."

Marie got her first glance at the newest arrived and completely froze up. He was tall and broad, covered in think fur coat and an armoured tunic. He did not sport elaborate braids or beards like many of the others, but had long black hair streaked with lines of silver to match the his close cut beard. His eyes were intense as the bore down on her, assessing her.

Dwalin may have startled her on first appearance, but this man absolutely frightened her ... and she didn't know why.

"So ... _this_ is the hobbit." He said in a deep voice, making Marie wrapped her arms about herself to protect herself.

"Tell me Miss Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Thorin circled her.

"What?"

"Axe or sword? Which is your weapon?"

Marie finally regained some confidence and answered boldly, "I have never used either in my life I'll have you know."

"Thought as much. She looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

The dwarves all chuckled and headed into the living room. Thorin cast one last glace at her before brushing her aside completely. Marie on the other hand felt quite stumped and glanced up at Gandalf.

"I feel like I should be insulted ... I just don't know how. And what did he mean by 'Burglar'?"


	3. A Burglar's Contract

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Okay, just to clarify things, I have replaced Bilbo with Maire, but that does not mean that I love him any less than I do. Please forgive me for that. Thanks for the support for this story.**

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Things became surprisingly calmer once Thorin was settled at the table with a bowel of stew and a tankard of ale. Perhaps the presence of their leader kept the dwarves in order or something along those lines. Regardless, this change in atmosphere was a welcomed one in Marie's mind.

She was allowed to gather her thoughts as she clean the last of the pots lest in the small sink. As she did, the rest of the company including Gandalf all sat about the dining room table, tankards and pips in hand and they spoke. The occasional laughter could be heard as they continued to reconnect over lost times.

Marie felt quite the stranger in her own home.

"So what news of the meeting? Did they all come?" Balin asked, turning the conversation to more serious matters. All the dwarves nodded and focused on Thorin.

"Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms." Thorin nodded, and an excited murmur spread across the table, the younger dwarves grew restless with anticipation. "And what do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asked. "Is Dain with us?"

Thorin's face dropped and he took a deep breath, reading himself more than anyone for the news, "They will not come. They say that this quest is ours, and ours alone."

The company looked about each other with mixed reactions. Some disappointed, some frustrated and others seemed unsure.

"A quest?" No one had noticed Maire standing behind Gandalf, "Is this what you meant this morning?"She rubbed her arms nervously, wondering if she was intruding on things she had no say in. "Marie dear. Perhaps it is best you see this."

Gandalf reached into his robes and pulled out a folded map. The table was cleared so that it could be spread out. None of the other dwarves other than Thorin had seen its contents and were all keen to know what it held. Marie shuffled around to be beside Gandalf to have a better look, but this also meant standing next to Thorin.

The dwarf king could see her resignation and fear of him, for she tried to etch herself closer to the wizard. She had not dared to meet his eye since they were introduced.

"Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands lies a single solitary peak." Gandalf explained and pointed to the images on the paper. Marie leaned in close to read it. It was a map of a single mountain with both the common tongue and dwarfish runes written, as well as various town names and markers.

At the top of the map there was another name, with a dragon drawn in bright red ink beside it.

"The ... Lonely ... Mountain." She muttered, reading out loud to herself.

"Aye. Oin has read the portence and the portence say it is time." Gloin said, nodding to his brother, who took over speaking. All listened but Bombor, who was still finishing off the scraps from dinner. "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. When the birds of Yore return to Erebor, the reign of the Beast will end."

This was the first time Marie was hearing any of this. "Um ... what beast?"

"Oh, that be a reference to Smaug the Terrible. Cheifest and greatest calamity of our age." Bofur answer indifferently. Marie looked back done at the map, more specifically the red dragon above the mountain.

"Air born fire breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals ..."

"I get it. A dragon." Marie held up a hand to stop his rambling.

There was the sound of a scrapping chair as Ori suddenly stood up, "I'm not afraid, I'm up for it. I'll give him the taste of dwarfish iron right up his jaxie!" Marie gasped and covered her mouth while the company all laughed and praised the little dwarf's courage. Dori just pulled him back down by his ear. "Not in front of a lady."

Balin sighed and spoke as the voice of reason, "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen. And not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."

The dwarves took offence to this, but Balin was in most cases right.

"We may be few in numbers, but we're fighters. All of us, to the last dwarf." Kili said proudly. Marie glanced around the group, only picking some as actual fighters, the rest ... not so much. Fili backed up his brother's statement, "And you forget we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf would have killed hundreds of dragons."

"Well now, I wouldn't say ..." Gandalf started to deny it but Dori cut him off. "How many dragons have you killed?"

But the wizard refused to answer and pretended to cough on his smoking pipe. Marie guessed that he had never killed a dragon.

This caused an uproar, which meant more shouting. Bifur and Nori leapt up from the seats and there looked like a fight would break out. Marie groaned and moved into the hallway in a vain attempt to escape the noise. _'Why must dwarves be so vocal about things?' _She pinched the bridge of her nose.

The was a thunderous shout that made Marie jump right out of her skin and everyone else grew silent. The owner of such a noise was Thorin himself, who had remained quiet until now. "If we have read these signs, do you not think that others have as well? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen in sixty years." He stood tall, almost covering the whole opening. Marie could see nothing but his broad back as she stepped further away.

"Eyes look to the east assessing, weighing the risks. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we just sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours, or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!?"

There was so much passion laced in each word that it inspired new determination in each of the dwarves, who agreed with his words fully. Maire could now see why he was their leader.

"You forget that the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."  
Balin raised his voice over the cheers of the other.

"Not quite my dear Balin." Gandalf twirled his fingers and a strange key made from black iron appeared seemingly out of thin air. Thorin's eyes widened as he recognized the dwarvish work. "How come you by this?"

"It was given to me by your father, Thrain, for safe keeping." Gandalf handed the key to him, "It is yours now."

Thorin held the iron key before him, releasing what it meant.

"The runes on the map speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls of Erebor." Gandalf pointed out. Kili slapped his brother's shoulder, "There's another way in." He grinned.

"If we can find, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gandalf shrugged and looked back down at the map, "The answer lies hidden in this map and I do not have the skills to find, but there are others in Middle Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require are great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage."

"That's why we need a burglar." Stated Ori and all eyes fell on the hobbit, who was still standing alone in the corridor. "By the looks of it, you'll need an expert." She shrugged, oblivious that she herself was the burglar in question.

"And are you?"

Marie finally noticed that she was being stared at by thirteen dwarves and a wizard. "Who, me?" She pointed at herself.

"She said she's an expert." Oin cheered, completely mishearing her.

"What? No, no, no, no." Marie waved her hands frantically, "I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen in my ..."

"What about Harold Burrow? You used to pickpocket his handkerchief at your Old Took's birthday gathering." Gandalf asked, causing Marie to become even more flustered. "That doesn't count Gandalf. I gave it back to him ..." "Only when he could find you. I remember you managed to steal it twelve times one year." The wizard went on to say, more so to the dwarves than Marie, who was beetroot red.

"Well ... Harold is a half-wit anyway, hardly a challenge." She grumbled, backing herself into the wall.

Some of the dwarves laughed at her, but Balin seemed more positive. "Well, the best burglars are those you would least expect after all, and I certainly would never had picked Miss Baggins for one." He said.

"But still," Dwalin shook his head in disagreement, "The wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor defend for themselves."

Marie was both grateful and irritated. She could defend herself if she tried, but had never needed to.  
Disagreement and confusion broke out again, which angered Gandalf.

"Enough!" The air around him grew dark and heavy, like his very being was expanding and filling the room with shadows. Everyone leaned away to try and escape, only Thorin remained unaffected. "If I say Marie Baggins is a burglar then a burglar she is." the shadow slowly faded into oblivion as Gandalf returned to his usual self. Once all was normal, Marie let go of the doorway she had braced herself against.

"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, and can pass unseen by most if they choose. Now while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unfamiliar to him." Gandalf explained and Marie felt a pit of woe form in her stomach. _'I'm not being sent into a dragon's den am I?'_

The wizard turned his focus onto Thorin, "You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Maire." Gandalf gave her a look, with the message 'Trust me" dancing in his eyes."There is a lot more to Marie than you see. She is faster and more light footed than the average hobbit, with a knack for climbing. She has a great deal to offer than any of you know, including herself."

Thorin sighed and glanced at Marie under his dark eyelashes. She was so slight and looked as though a gust of wind could blow her over. What could this mere ... woman offer to their quest? But Gandalf did have a point, the dragon would not know her scent, and she was remarkably quiet.

"You must trust me on this." Gandalf pleaded.

Thorin relented and agreed. "Alright, give her the contract." He motioned to Balin who took care of legal matters. He produced said contract it out to Marie. "Just the usual. Summary of pocket expensive, time requiary, funeral arrangements."

Marie was taken aback, "Funeral arrangements?"

Thorin grew impatient and took the contract, only to shove it at Marie. "Hey." She tried to glare at the dwarf, but even facing away from her she felt timid and ceased complaining.

_'Do I get any say in this?'_ She sighed and began reading the lengthy terms and conditions.

With her back to them, Thorin took this chance to mutter to Gandalf his own terms for agreeing to the new addition. "I can not guaranty her safety, nor will I be responsible for her fate." He said, plain and simple. Gandalf really had o option. He would take soul charge of Marie's well being.

The colour left Marie's face as she read the contract. "... Injuries limited to ... laceration. Evisceration and ... Incineration?" She felt a wave of nausea hit her.

"Oh aye, melt the flesh off ya bone in the blink of an eye." Bofur was more than glad to answer, not understanding that such an answer made her feel even more sicker. She doubled over trying to steady her unsettled nerves.

"Are ya alright there lass?" Balin raised himself up to see better.

"Umm ... Yes. Ah no I feel ... bit faint." Maire placed a hand to her throat, swallowing lungfuls of air.

"Think furnace with wings." Bofur chimed in. "Yes, I see ..."

"Flash of light ..."

"Thank you, I get it ..."

"Searing pain, then poof, you're nothing more than a pile of ash."

Gandalf shot a glare at Bofur to silence him, then looked back at Marie. She looked like she was thinking hard about something, about what was anyone's guess. She looked up and found herself staring directly at Thorin.

The two looked eyes for a few seconds before Marie dropped the contract and fell to her knees, "I need a moment." She muttered feebly.

Her unexplainable fear for the man was her breaking point.

The first to react were Gandalf and Bofur, then Kili and Fili, "Is she alright?" "Nice going Bofur." They called from the other end of the table. Bofur shrugged apologetically and moved out of the dining room to kneel by Marie. "Sorry lass." He mumbled led as he rubbed her back.

With the surprising help from Dwalin, Marie had made it on shaky legs to her armchair, holding her face in her hands and hyperventilating. Gandalf kept her company as her mild panic attack subsided while the rest of the company thought out of curtsy to their reluctant hostess, it best to give her a few minutes, though Dori brewed her a cup of tea.

"Excuse me Miss Baggins," He graciously handed her the steaming mug, "A little something to help calm the nerves."

"Oh, thank you Dori." She gave him a weak smile. She sipped the hot tea and found it to be quite a pleasant taste. Gandalf quietly asked him to leave them in order to have a good chat with Marie. He dropped the contract on her lap.

"Tell me Marie, when did dollies and dishes become so important to you?" Gandalf sighed, "I remember a young hobbit who was always off looking for elves in the wood, who would stay out late and come home trailing mud, twigs and fireflies. You and that cousin of yours, Alistair Took, were the bane of every farmer with all the exploring you would do on their lands."

Marie's hand tightened around the boiling mug. Once she was that girl, but not anymore.

"You would speak of nothing but finding out what lay beyond the Shire and Bree ..."

"Times change Gandalf and people grow up. I'm a Baggins of Bag End." Marie said slowly, like a mantra she had repeated to herself time and time again.

"You are also a Took." Gandalf stated.

"And I've never heard the end of it." She sighed, placing her cup on a book which sat balanced on the arm rest.

"Did you know that your great great great-granduncle Bullroarer was so huge that he could ride a horse?" Gandalf asked. Marie just nodded, for she had heard this story many times before.

"Well he could. In the Battle of the Green Fields he charged the ranks of the goblins. He swung his club so hard that it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off so that it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit-hole, and thus the battle was won, and the game of Golf was invented at the same time."

"I've never heard that version." Marie said flatly.

"Well, all good stories need a bit of embellishment, and knowing you talents for stories you'll have a tale or two to tell when you come back." Gandalf smiled and sat himself on a tiny stool.

It was only here in the glow of the fire place that he saw years of sadness and defeat etched in her eyes, which were turned away from the wizard and focused on a small portrait sitting on the mantelpiece. The round frame had an image of a young hobbit, with soft blonde curls and a devilish grin spread across his face.

"Can you promise that I will come back?" Her voice was no more than a sigh, tired and almost lonely.

"No. And if you do you will not be the same." Gandalf was honest with his answer. Marie eyes moved away from the picture and she plucked the contract up from her lap.

"I can't ... Gandalf I really ..." She stood up and gently handed the paper to the wizard, "I'm not that hobbit anymore, I'm so sorry." She hung her head and walked out of the living room and presumably to her bedroom.

Her departure did not go unnoticed. Thorin and Balin watched the hobbit walk away. "It appears we have lost our burglar." Balin sighed and leant against the wooden walls of the hobbit hole.

Thorin however did not seem as troubled. As he thought earlier, this woman would not be able to handle this quest, her behaviour was proof of that.

She was doing herself a kindest for saying no.

xxxxx

Marie felt terrible. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring into nothing as her body recovered. Within the space of a few short hours she had run the gamete of emotions, confusion, anger, surprise, fear, sadness and for the first time in almost twenty years, curiosity.

The dwarves' quest had genuinely caught her interest, and the way Thorin had spoke about it made it sound so worthwhile and exciting, even her blood had stirred.

As she removed her cardigan, she heard a noise, deep and powerful, emanating from down the hallway. The noise became a tune, rising and falling in volume and strength. It was the dwarves whose voices pierced the very foundation of Bag End

Marie dared to move.

One voice rose above the rest.

_"Far over the Misty Mountains cold. To dungeons deep and caverns old."_

Marie had never heard such a sad voice before. Hobbits did not sing of sorrow or hardship, favouring songs of dancing, merriment and drinking.

_"We must away, ere break of day, to find our long forgotten gold." _

The sheer sadness in the voice touched something within her, a pining for something. For a moment Marie was filled with a strange sensation of longing. She closed her eyes and listened closely as more voices joined.

_"The pines were roaring on the high. _

_The winds were moaning in the night. _

_The fire was red, it flaming spread, the trees like torches blazed with light."_

Marie fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of burning trees.

xxxxx

The twittering larks of the early morning woke Marie, still propped up against the bed frame. She let out a groan as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. The candles had burnt up and there was a lingering smell of tobacco in the air.

The smell reminded her off what had passed that night and she quickly got up to investigate. She checked every room expecting to find a dwarf, but it looked as though there was never anyone there that night, apart from the empty pantry.

She finished her sweep in the living room, find only a few burnt out candles and a single tankard.

Marie sighed and looked about her.

They were gone

Before the silence surrounding her would not had crossed her mind, but now after such a loud and rambunctious night of food, song and tales of adventure, it was too quiet.

Had it always been this quiet?

Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the contract had been left behind. It was just sitting on her armchair neatly. The word 'Burglar' and the blank space next to it were the first thing she read.

'_Traveling on an unfamiliar path is not the hardest part of a journey Marie ... it's taking the first step forward.'_

She felt a restlessness brewing within her. Should she stay where life was simple and controllable ... or could she risk revisiting old dreams once more and trust her life in Fate's fickle hands?


	4. Oakenshield

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Thanks for all the input from the reviews. Please keep them coming and tell me your thoughts.**

* * *

The long line of ponies trotted slowly along the main path out of the Shire with the company. Gandalf of course lead the charge with Thorin right behind him. They had departed from Bag End before dawn but had wasted a good deal of time in gathering the necessary provisions, curtsy of Bombur and Bifur. Just as Thorin thought there would be no more disruptions, a voice called out from the woods behind them.

"Wait!"

One by one, the dwarves halted their ponies and turned to look.

What they saw was a hobbit with chestnut hair bounding towards them, wearing brown felt pants and a burgundy jacket and holding a piece of paper in hand. Gandalf smiled to himself while Thorin and a few of the older dwarves look on with surprise.

Marie Baggins had come along after all.

"Sorry I'm late." She panted as she run up to Balin's pony, holding the contract aloft, "I signed it." Balin took the contract and inspected it with a monocle. Marie glanced over at Gandalf, now beaming. "Marie my dear, isn't that your father's best jacket?" He asked.

Marie looked down at her appearance. The jacket itself was quiet big on Marie, as he father was a tubby hobbit, but thankfully his pants and waistcoat fitted nicely. Her hair was in a mess from a hasty attempt at a braid. "I was in a hurry so I grabbed the first one I saw."

As she spoke, she noticed a piece of wood latched onto Thorin's saddle. It was an Oak branch by the looks of it, just long enough to cover a man's arm. Now she knew why the dwarf called himself 'Oakenshield' but still. _'Why an Oak branch?'_

"Well, everything seems to be in order." Balin said loudly so that Thorin could hear, "Welcome Miss Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." Balin smiled and winked at her. Marie finally let go of the breath she had been hold, for the entire time she had been running she had been worried that they would perhaps so no.

"Give her a pony." Thorin commanded, his indifference to the hobbit's presence all too clear to Marie. She stared at the back of his head as he already moved his pony away, feeling slightly annoyed at his rudeness. Her glaring was cut off as two strong hands lifted her clean off her feet. "Hey careful!" Fili and Kili held her up and settled her on one of the extra ponies.

"I can walk you know." She said as a pair of reigns was shoved into her hands. "Not all the way to Erebor love. Besides, you'll like Murtle." Fili said, stirring himself away once she was settled. She awkwardly held up the reigns while her pony followed on in the line. Gandalf moved from his position at the head of the line to ride beside Marie, as to keep a better eye on her.

"Come on Nori, pay up!" Oin, who was riding behind Marie called. Nori tossed a small purse over her head which Oin gleefully caught.

There were a few more purses tossed before Marie questioned Gandalf about it. "They took wages on whether or not you would turn up." He explained.

"Huh. And what did you think?" As she spoke, another purse was tossed and caught by Gandalf. "I never doubted you for a second my dear."

"Oh, well ahhh ... that's rea aahhh ... reassuring aaaACHOO!"

All the horse hair made Marie sneeze loudly. Her pony scampered off the trail and started to paw at the ground. The company halted again as Marie began to panic and tried pulling the reigns, but it did more harm than good. Kili jumped off his pony and attempted to be the hero, reaching for the scared animal.

"Aaaaahhh ease Murtle, good pony." Marie shaky voice did not sooth the pony, only making Gloin Dwalin and Bofur laugh. Kili finally caught the reign and pulled the pony back into line. "There that's better." He took one look at the petrified hobbit and had to try with all his might to contain his laughter. Fili too was struggling to keep a straight voice.

"Marie, are you alright?" Gandalf asked seriously. She had gone quite pale and her teeth were gritted together.

"Did you know it was going to do that?" Marie clutched her saddle desperately.

"Well, Murtle is ... sensitive." Fili rode up alongside her, "We thought you two would make a great pair."

"I have never ridden a pony in my life." The glares the two brothers got from her only made them laugh even more.

"Enough. Move one!" Thorin barked from the head of the party.

'_Well ... great. I'm a member barely five minutes and I'm already a joke and a burden." _Marie wished to be walking, but kept her mouth shut to prevent Thorin from disliking her even more.

"Take heart Marie, it can only get easier from here on out." The wizard spoke kind words to raise her spirits again. Marie could only hope that it would.

xxxxxx

The gentle green of the Shire faded behind them with each passing day, and with it the feeling of familiarity for Marie. For her, the world seemed to expand and grow bigger as soon as they crossed over the Brandywine Bridge. Open fields and hills became dry rocky plains stretching over the land, and even the dense forests held a more sinister nature to them.

Marie of course was the only one affected by such a change and was constantly watching the goings on around her, and never in front of her.

Marie was rusty when it came to basic survival skills and often found herself tripping on her own feet while exploring their campsites and being scolded for letting her pony trail off the path one too many times.

This made her an easy target for Fili and Kili's mischief, as they would constantly tease her and spook her.

She attempted to have decent conversations with some of the dwarves, but there was always some argument or some joke that distracted the company and left Marie completely in the dark on her own.

But she was not the only one to sit quietly on the side lines. Thorin himself seemed content with only watching his rowdy company. Occasionally Marie saw his eyes pull away from the camp and glance out at the surrounding terrain. Though the others took it in turns watching over the camp, Thorin was always keeping one eye open just in case. Marie found this a noble trait, even if Thorin had not once acknowledged her fully as a member. At times she caught him casting a fleeting glance her way, but in his eyes there was always something of discontentment which made her feel even more insecure around him.

One night, they had made camp on high ground, giving them a good view over the land below in case of any surprise attacks. Fili and Kili were both given the first watch of the night and sat by the small fire for warmth. All but Gandalf and Marie were fast asleep. Gandalf sat back in the shadows with his own pipe, deep in contemplation about their plans while Marie simply stared up at the stars above her, picking out the different patterns to pass the time.

She had learned how to pick them out long ago ... by a dear friend long gone.

After endless nights of camping with them, the dwarves' snoring was still preventing her from sleeping. Bombur was the worst. Marie sighed and adjusted her arms folded under her head, only to feel a spider crawl up her arm. She let slip a small squeak and shot upright, shaking her arm wildly to be rid of it. She almost hit poor Bombur as she did.

Kili looked up from his pipe and stared at the hobbit, "Ya all right Marie?" He softly asked.

"I'm alright. I'm alright. Bloody spiders." Marie gave an involuntary shiver. She hated spiders.

She stretched her arms and decided to walk off her little scare. She walked over to the ponies and gave Murtle a good scratch. In fact her relationship with her pony was the only thing to improve in the passing weeks of traveling.

A screech echoed across the night air, making the ponies and Marie tense up immediately. It sounded like a dying bird, a very dangerous and nasty bird.

The brothers also tensed up as well, Kili automatically reaching for his bow.

"What was that?" Marie made the wise choice to move back into the camp and away from whatever was making that awful noise.

"Orcs. Throat cutters." Fili said passively. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lower lands are crawling with them."

"Orcs?" Marie said a little too loudly out of sheer panic. Thorin was awake in seconds and poised ready, Balin as well.

"They strike in the dead of night when everyone's asleep, no screams ... just lots and lots of blood." Kili said quietly. Marie felt her heart rate go up and she looked around expecting to have one pop out at her. The brothers however chuckled at her over reaction.

"You think thats funny?" Thorin growled at his two nephews. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

Kili looked down sheepishly, 'We didn't mean anything by it."

"No you didn't." Thorin stood and walked passed Marie, the fur of his coat brushing her hands. Marie pulled away from the dwarf as he headed to the outskirts of the camp, but not before Marie heard him mutter, "You know nothing of the world."

Fili and Kili looked put down by his word and glanced at each other.

"Don't mind him, laddie." Balin said, "Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs."

Balin looked over at him, now standing alone as he stared off into the distance. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria... but our enemy had got there first." Marie found herself slowly sitting down by the fire as Balin told his tale. Fili and Kili too were drawn into the story.

"Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race, Azog the Defiler." Some of the other dwarves had woken now and listened in.

"The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King." Marie bulled her legs in closer, her toes clenching the grass. "Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed; we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us."

Balin's old face light up as he remembered it. Marie looked over at Thorin as Balin continued. She was seeing for the first time a great weight on those shoulders.

"That is when I saw him. The young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armour rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the Orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated... but there was no feast or songs that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived and I thought to myself then 'There is one I could follow. There is one I could call King'."

Thorin, who had been listening to his old companion's tale, finally turned to face the fourteen faces staring at him. Some were looking at him with admiration, others with utmost respect. He walked back through the camp, the company parting to make way. As he did he looked down at the hobbit curled up by the fire.

Thorin noticed that there was a brightness in her eyes he had not yet seen before. They were like the embers in the fire that flickered softly with not just awe, but a gentle understanding.

Where had this spark been?

It died very quickly when she dropped her gaze. "What of the Pale Orc. What happened to him?" She asked.

"He slunk back into to halls from whence he came. The filth died from his wounds long ago." Thorin answered for her, hate seething with every word.

If any had been looking at Balin at the time, they would have seen his voice fall and his lip twitch into a frown. He glanced over at Gandalf, who too looked quite sceptical.

Thorin's statement that Azog had died years ago ... may not have been as accurate as he'd thought.


	5. Beauty beneath the Poison

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

* * *

The next day, the weather turned for the worst. Cold winds from north cut through the air and brought dark rain clouds. The sky opened up and the company of fifteen were soaked to the bone, even in the refuge of the forest. The dwarves hid under their thick traveling cloaks with bitter frowns on their faces while Marie only had her burgundy coat for protection. Long strands of her hair had come loose from her braid and were plastered over her face and catching in her eyelashes.

"Mr Gandalf, can you do something about this deluge?" Dori called from the back of the line, having enough of the sour weather.

Marie looked up at the wizard, who was riding beside her again that day. His large grey had acted like a small tent for him, leaving his face and beard dry. "It is raining Master Dori and it will continue to rain until the rain is done." Gandalf stated in a matter of fact tone, "If you want to change the weather of the world you should find yourself another wizard."

"Are there other wizards?" Marie asked.

"Yes, five to be exact. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards ..." Gandalf's eyes wondered of for a moment, "You know I've quite forgotten their names. And the fifth would be Radagast the Brown."

"What kind of wizard is he? A great one or ... not so great?" Marie pushed the wet hair from her eye to see him better.

"I think he is great wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to other people and keeps a watchful eye over the great forests to the east." Gandalf looked down from his horse and smiled, "I think you would get along splendidly with him Marie."

Her eyebrows knitted together, "I hope you aren't implying that I am like an animal."

"No, no my dear." Gandalf reassured her, but quietly added on, "Well, maybe a mouse."

Marie pretended not to hear him.

The tree line ahead of the company began to thin out, replaced with a more rocky terrain and the sound of a river could be heard. As they neared the clearing, Gandalf saw that the river he had intended to cross over had been flooded. He spurred his horse ahead of the group to have a better look, his lips in a deep set frown.

The company halted along the edge of the river at the water rushed by. As they did they felt the rain start to ease into a light shower.

"Ah good. Seems the weather is turning." Gandalf said and looked up at the clouds.

"We must look for a crossing." Thorin barked over the noise.

"There is no crossing for miles, and the water is moving too fast for the ponies to cross." Gandalf protested calmly, "We should wait until the river dies down. It will be dusk soon anyway."

"We can't waste time Gandalf."

"It would also be good for the men. In my experience, a foul atmosphere can make any journey slower." Gandalf said this a little more quietly. Thorin glanced around at the men, and their burglar. They all share the same grim expressions.

"Alright." Thorin grumbled and dismounted, "We will set up camp back within the forest. Perhaps the trees will provide more suitable coverage."

The dwarves were more than happy to stop. Gloin, Nori and Ori pitched a makeshift tent large enough for all of them to squeeze in under and Bombur and Bofur made a start on some food. The rain had completely stopped by then, allowing Marie a chance to try to dry her cloths.

Being completely aware that she was surrounded by men, Marie took great care in how she did so. She removed only her coat and waistcoat, wringing them out as best she could then hung them on a low branch to dry. She was freezing cold now and rubbed her arms to create some heat. If she wasn't careful she could get a cold.

As she was about to settled down, Bifur came shouting into the camp, carrying on about something and clutching at his hand. "Um, what's he saying?" Marie asked Bofur.

"Aahhh ... you really don't want to know lass. He was just patrolling when he suddenly started cursing." Bofur gestured towards the forest.

"Bifur, may I see your hand please?" She asked. The dwarf made a series of grunts that Maire could only interpret as a yes. She held his hand very carefully as she inspected it. Many of the dwarves were watching the drama from afar with curious eyes. On Bifur's palm there were several purple dots and nettle points stuck in the tough skin.

"As I though. You've been stung by Greta's Heart Bifur."

None of the dwarves had any clue what Marie was on about. "Bofur could you get me two bowls, one with water please?"

"Sure lass, but what for?"

"I need to clean the nettle toxin." Marie gently prodded the purple marks, making Bifur react violently to the pain. Bofur pulled her away from the swinging arms of his kin.

Thorin was watching from afar as he always did, silent and passive. He had his head in the folds of his fur coat, fingers curled around the iron key Gandalf had given him. It was the symbol of hope that Erebor would once again belong to the dwarves, and barely ten feet away from him was the woman who would was to accomplish that.

How? Thorin still couldn't fathom that. Gandalf had called her a mouse before. Indeed, she looked like one. A small, wet, fragile mouse.

"You know, you could show her a little more curtsey." Thorin rolled his eyes as Gandalf approached, "She is trying. And as a member of _your_ company she is entitled to some respect from you."

"I give respect when it is earned, and I have said I am not responsible for her."

Gandalf sighed and sat upon the rock. "I do not mean for you to be lenient just because she is a woman." Gandalf lit his pipe and inhaled a good long puff of the Old Toby. "Talk to her."

"She can't even look me in the eye for very long."

"Then don't growl."

Thorin shook his head at the wizard. His fingers tightened around the key as he looked back over at Marie. Bofur had given her the two bowls and a knife, which she held dangerously close to her arm as she went off somewhere.

Marie found the plant she was looking for at the base of one of the trees just outside the camp and walked closer to inspect it. It was a large bush of nettles with purple leaves that had grown into the trees base and had stretched up the trunk.

She knelt down and placed the bowls next to each other and went to fetch some Kingsfoil. She needed some in order to make a paste to properly clean the nettle stings. Luckily there was a small patch of the weed by another tree and she cut a good handful for herself.

"I see you are versed in medicinal plants."

Marie practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of Thorin's voice. She looked around and saw the dwarf's imposing frame, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the tree with the Greta's Heart.

'_How long has he been standing there?' _"A little," She said once she had calmed down from her fright. "But I wouldn't say I'm an expert, I'm just very familiar with this one." She gestured to the nettle bush, "Some of the farmers outside Bree have them planted around their borders."

"And what would you be doing trespassing on their lands?" Thorin asked. Maire cleared her throat and rolled her shoulders casually, "That isn't any bodies business." Using the knife to hold up the nettles, she pulled out the purple leaves carefully. Thorin watched her work silently, not caring that he was causing her to feel uneasy.

"The ahh ... leaves have an anti toxin that ... counteracts the nettles." She started to ramble to distract herself from her discomfort. "It's not fatal but can sting for days after, just enough to keep the animals away."

"And hobbits it seems."

Marie wasn't sure if she should be more surprised that Thorin was making a joke than just actually talking with her. Either way, he wasn't speaking to her with his usual gruff attitude, so she started to feel less scared of him.

"Why would something with poison be called 'Greta's Heart'?"

"Because of this." Marie opened a small hole in the bush with the knife, and revealed a single flowering blooming at its core. Thorin knelt down to have a better look, and was shoulder to shoulder with the hobbit. The flower itself was something he had never come across before, spanning the size if a closed hand. The fine petals were pure white, with flakes of red at the tips. Its centre was bulb of deep crimson and gold, like a precious gem caught in the light.

Thorin was intrigued and reached for it.

"Careful." Marie called, but he had already caught his fingers on the sharp nettles. His hissed and withdrew his hand quickly. "I did warn you." There was a trace of smugness in Marie's voice, for now the tables had turned on who scolded who.

It was then that she noticed that they were a little too close. She discreetly shuffled over to put some distance between them. "I'm not sure what it's actually called, but folk associate it to the old fable." Marie pulled the knife away and the flower disappeared from sight. She collected the leaves together and shredded them into smaller pieces.

"Fable?"

"Aye. My grandmother used to tell it to me. It is the tale of a young maiden named Greta, a maiden with the purest heart in all the land. She could charm the wildest of beasts and sooth the most restless of minds, and when she sang, flowers would bloom all around her. She was selfless and kind, with healer's hands and child like eyes that shone like the moon when she was holding a secret."

Marie began to grind the shredded leaves with the Kingsfoil in the empty bowl as she told the story.

"But, with a heart so pure came an equally pure beauty, and it brought her nothing but sorrow. For in men's hearts lies lecherous greed, and men came far and wide for her hand ... and her body. Greta knew of the fickle nature of a man's affection and was terrified of her heart being broken. So great was her fear that she cut out her own heart."

"She would rather never love at all than risk loving at all?"

Marie nodded her head and mixed the water in with the leaves. There was an earnest look about her as she worked.

"Yes. As she hid her heart in a nearby shrub, her tears fell on the leaves. They turned to nettles and guarded the pure heart from any who would seek to harm it. Greta however died not long after of loneliness, for without her heart she forgot who she was."

The purple paste was ready and she held out a hand to Thorin. He just stared at it confused.

"Do you want to have your fingers stinging for days?" Marie flexed her hand, indicating him to give her his own.

Thorin was taken aback but her sudden confidence with him and complied with her wish. She scooped up the paste with two fingers and began applying it evenly along Thorin's fingertips. Though they were small in comparison to his, they were calloused and firm, the hands of a hard worker. The paste was cool against the skin and Thorin felt the stinging easing.

"It is a shame that such a beautiful flower can't be seen." Thorin said to pass the time.

"Well it can be, under the right circumstances."

"You mean if someone is willing dig through poisonous nettles and harm themselves."

"Isn't that what you're doing?" Marie asked, "Risking a dragon's wrath for your people's treasure? Your home? When the reward is great enough, just about anyone will put themselves in harm's way."

Thorin would have never guessed her to be so profound.

"It doesn't look too bad, so it should be fine in a few minutes." Marie said when she was done. Her hand felt warm against his.

Thorin jerked his hand from her's and left quite suddenly.

He did not even thank her.

Marie was puzzled by his odd behavior. First he ignored her presence, then out of nowhere talked to her then he was back to brushing her aside.

She spent the rest of that evening picking out nettles from Bifur's hand, with the help of Bofur and Kili who restrained him for the ordeal. Amidst the dwarvish swearing and grunt, Marie took no notice of it and was wrapped up in her own thoughts.

Her patient hands and focused face was watched from afar by the king.


	6. A Prelude to Trouble

**Disclaimer: I do not own the hobbit.**

**Thanks for all the review posted. In response as to how the Greta's Heart came about, I actually came up with is as a representation of Marie herself. A cookie for anyone who can guess why.**

**Anyway, enjoy and review please.**

* * *

Seeking to make up for lost ground, Thorin roused the company before dawn the next morning. They fumbled around in the darkness searching for their belonging and tacked up the ponies one by one. Marie tried to roll up her spread, but it hurt her to open her eyes. She was not used to such an early and rough awakening and felt like someone had sucked the sense of equilibrium out of her head.

"You best hurry up Marie,"" Kili knelt down and helped her, "Thorin doesn't take kindly to those who dawdle."

"Mmmhgnn." She was too tired to form proper words and just rubbed her face. Her coat was still damp and brought a chill to her bones.

Kili saw a wonderful chance to try a new prank. "I wouldn't dawdle," He plucked a fresh sprig of grass and lightly brushed it over her ear, "The spiders are out this morning."

Marie leapt up and shook her hair. "Get it off!" Fili and Kili laughed heartily, but quickly shut their mouths when their uncle approached the hysteric hobbit. Marie was still preoccupied in getting rid of the spider that she bumped into him. His hands gripped her arms tightly to stop her thrashing about, but also had them facing one another. She would have enjoyed the warmth his hands brought to her cold arms if she wasn't so terribly embarrassed.

"Stop." Thorin commanded. Marie did so quickly, her face bright red. Luckily it was still too dark for him to see it.

Once he was out of ear shot, Marie turned on her heels and smacked Kili in across the head. "That was not funny." She growled.

Kili stood and rubbed his sore head. "I thought it was hysterical. Perhaps you'll be fully awake next time" He said with a big grin and tried the same trick again just to tease her. Unbeknownst to him, Marie was already plotting revenge.

They finished packing up and were once again on the Great East Road in a long line. An hour after the sun finally rose from behind the rocky pass, Marie decided to engage in a conversation.

"Kili?" He craned his head and looked back at her, "What is Erebor like?"

"Why the sudden interest?"

"Well it occurred to me that I ran off into the wilderness with no idea as to where I'm actually going, besides there being a large sum of treasure at the end ... and a dragon"

"A very large treasure you mean." Kili corrected her, "The gold and precious jewels fill almost every hall of Erebor, or so I'm told."

"It was said that King Thror hoarded gold and created his own labyrinth, where he would wonder aimlessly through it, the shining jewels lighting his steps." Fili said from behind them. "Really?" Marie's eyes were wide. The idea of a labyrinth of gold astounded her, but that was not what she wanted to know. "But what of the mountain itself? I mean is it a big mountain, and what of the inside?"

"Wouldn't have a clue." Kili shrugged.

"You mean ... you've never ... seen it?" Marie asked.

"The Lonely Mountain was taken over two hundred years ago, long before we were born." Fili trotted up along side Marie, not wanting to be left out.

Marie whistled, "Two hundred years."

"Yes. Uncle and Balin are the only ones among us who lived through the attack on Erebor." Kili pointed to the two who rode up ahead.

"Wait, they actually lived there? But Thorin doesn't look much older than me." Maire said, baffled by this latest piece of news.

"Well, how old are you then?" Kili asked innocently. His brother shook his head at his naive little brother. Maire pursed her lips and answered for the sake of conversation. "I'm forty nine." She said stiffly.

"That young?" The brothers asked together. Marie looked between them a little confused. "Young? Good gracious I'm not young."

Fili cleared his throat and explained. "Because of the long life expectancy of dwarves, they aren't considered full fledged adults until they are about ninety or so. I myself am eighty two and Kili is still only a boy of seventy seven."

'_Only seventy seven?!'_ Marie was lucky that she looked and felt as good as she was now at forty nine. "Hey, so is Ori!" Kili defended himself, not liking that Fili was purposefully teasing him in front of Marie.

"For hobbits, we become 'adults' when we turn thirty three." Marie ignored Kili's little tantrum and continued speaking with Fili.

"So, you are still looked upon as children until then?" Fili asked.

"No, it's just natural that by then one would be looking to settle down, marry and so on."

"If that is the case, why aren't you? Married I mean. Or was your husband away on business that night?"

"No, I'm not married. The answer to that is rather simple."

"What?"

"No one's ever asked me."

While to two talked Kili reached into his pocket for his pipe, figuring it would kill the boredom. He dug around for a second then looked in another pocket. It was nowhere to be found. He patted himself down frantically for it, but still couldn't find it. His behaviour caught Fili and Marie's attention.

Fili gave his brother an odd look before glancing sideways at Marie. It was then he noticed the pipe she was twirling in her hand.

"Damn it," Kili huffed, "Blasted pipe ... OW!"

Marie had tossed the pipe into the back of his head, where it made very satisfying _'thunk'_. It fell into his hood as he tried to catch it. "How did? When?" He looked around at the guilty hobbit, how just shrugged. "Consider us even." She said.

"Nibble hands ya have there." Fili chuckled. It appeared that Gandalf wasn't lying about her skills as a pickpocket. He checked his own pocket for his pipe, just in case.

The rest of that day went a lot faster than Marie realized thanks to Fili and Kili. It was the first time she had a descant talk with some of her companions and she actually noticed just how young they were compared to herself. They reminded her of two adolescences finding their own personalities and just running wild with them. In fact their energy was reminiscent of her and her cousin at their 'age'.

Thorin brought the company to a halt on the side of a rocky slope that encroached on small forest that looked to be grown from the rocks.

Further up ahead lay the ruins of a small farm house, and judging by the water damage and rotting, it had been abandoned for a very long time.

"We will make camp here for the night. Fili, Kili you watch over the ponies. Oin get a fire going."

Marie gladly dismounted. Maybe she would sleep better that night. Gandalf walked passed her in a sort of daze, staring around at the ruins. He was recalling something.

"Gandalf?" Looked up at the wizard, but he didn't hear her.

"This place ..." He walked towards it, leaving Marie just standing there. She had gotten used to his 'moments'. It was like another person had taken over him, and he would sporadically shift his attitude.

She shrugged and began unloading Murtle's saddle, but also kept an eye on the wizard as he looked about the house.

"I think it would be wiser to move on." He said loudly. But Thorin did not take heed to the warning. The dwarf and the wizard spoke in hushed tones while the company were busy. Kili passed by the distracted Marie and attempted to steal her hankerchief, just to see how easy it was to pickpocket. But that was a foolish decision.

"Don't even try it Kili." Marie sighed. She could sense his twitching fingers at the hem of her pocket, "You're an amateur."

Kili pulled his head away in surprise. She had her back to him and still she could sense him. Balin chuckled and strolled over to Marie. "My faith in our burglar is strengthening." He grinned and stroked Murtle's snout. He alone had witnessed Marie's talent in action that morning and was impressed that she got passed the two sharpest eyes in the company. "Tell me Miss Maire, where did you learn such skills."

"By accident I suppose." Marie answered, "I just wanted to annoy a certain hobbit. I ..."

She was interrupted by a very angry wizard brush past her, grumbling to himself.

"Gandalf where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one that's got any sense around here Miss Baggins."

Marie cocked her head, "Whose th.."

"Myself! I've had enough of dwarves for one day." Gandalf thundered as he stormed back the way they came.

Murtle shook her head up and down, giving Marie a soft whinny.

"Yes I know. Odd." Marie pattered her neck as she spoke.

None of the company knew how to react to the wizard's departure, nor were any of them sure if he would be back anytime soon. Thorin did not care. He would be damned if he follow Gandalf's advice and make for the Hidden Valley.

There was no way he would degrade himself to seek held from elves. His pride would not let him.

"Come on Bombur. Get some food going." He ordered. The large hobbit nodded and rummaged for the bowls.

None of the dwarves went near their leader after the argument. Thorin's temper was formidable and to provoke him would be a dangerous move, especially in his current state.

Unfortunately Marie hadn't known him that long, and made that mistake. He watched her step lightly towards him out of the corner of his eye, wishing for her not to bring up the topic again.

"How is ...?"

"This matter does not concern you." He barked walked straight passed her, intent on ignoring her.

"I was just ... asking about your hand."

Thorin slowed a little.

"I mean your fingers. Are the marks gone?" There was a little concern in her voice, but there was apprehension.

Thorin looked down at his hand. There were no traces of the nettle stings.

"Your cure has done its work." He said quietly, but not so quiet so that she did not hear it. "At least you've proven some use, though very little."

"That's good." That was all she murmured before leaving him alone again.

His eyes betrayed him and he watched her pass by him. He could see her head was kept down and she had crossed her arms over her chest, a motion she usually did when she felt threatened. Somehow Thorin felt a pang of guilt within him.

Was it because he had yelled at her? Or was because he belittled her again?

He had done so in the past, so why did it feel different now?

xxxxx

It grew late in the night and there was still no sign of Gandalf. While the dwarves did not seem so troubled by the loss of the wizard, Marie grew uneasy, and began pacing the length of the ruined house.

"Marie." Bofur called from the fire, "Could you take these to the lads." He held out two bowls of gruel, but still she pace. "Is everything alright Marie?"

"I don't know." She said chewing on a finger, "It feels ... I don't know, something's ... not right."

"You're just worried that Gandalf isn't back yet." Bofur said casually, but Maire shook her head. "No, it's something else."

"Here." He handed the bowls to her and shooed her off, "It will keep your mind off it."

Marie sighed and made her way to where the ponies were grazing. The bowls burned her fingers so she picked up the pace.

"Boys, dinner!" She called into the dark. She almost tripped up on a tree root when she found them. They stood with their backs to her, still as the trees that surrounded them. They were never this still.

"What wrong?" Marie asked, stepping into the gap between them

"We're supposed to be looking after the ponies." Kili muttered.

"Only we've encounter a ... slight problem." Fili looked at Marie with a very worried expression. "We had sixteen, now there are only fourteen."


	7. Swords and Words, the Better Weapon

**Diclaimer: I don't own the hobbit.**

**Another chapter down. Please read and enjoy.**

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"Perhaps they wandered off?" Marie said hopefully. Kili recounted the herd but Fili shook his head, "No these ponies are trained to remain together. They would not go too far." He walked carefully around the forest looking for clues. Marie placed the bowls of gruel on the remains of a wagon and joined in, "You really think they were stolen?"

Kili finished counting the ponies again, but still came up two short. "Daisy and Bungo are missing." He said as Marie and Fili stared at a freshly upturned tree. "This can't be good." Marie muttered and turned to leave, "I'll go tell Thorin."

"Ah, no Marie." Kili caught her arm and turned her back around, "Let's not bother him."

"But what ever took the ponies must have been huge, and very dangerous." She pointed to the tree, "Personally, I wouldn't want to be out here if it comes back."

"And I wouldn't want to be at the mercy of Thorin."

"Hey," Fili called the two over, "There's a light ahead."

Marie squinted her eyes and saw the light he was referring to. It was faint, mostly due to the over grown fauna around them. The brothers took off towards it and Marie had no choice but to follow, for if she was left alone with a possible monster lurking about, she may not have had the courage to even scream for help.

The trio ducked behind a log as the light grew stronger and gruff, almost guttural voices could be heard. A large shadow danced about the trunks, increasing Marie apprehension about this.

"Could it be men from around here?" She whispered to Kili, but the young dwarf knew better and frowned. "No. Trolls."

"What?!"

Kili acted impulsively and took off again, Fili and Marie close behind. As they got closer, the trees and bushes to their left groaned and snapped as something large stomped its way through the forest. The brothers and Marie hid quickly as it passed them, oblivious to the trio.

Marie got her first look at a troll. It was over ten feet tall, hunched and stocky with skin that looked like dried leather in the dim light. Every step it took it groaned and grunted, and under each arm it had a struggling pony. To Marie's horror, one of them was Murtle.

In every story she had heard about trolls there was always mention of their ungovernable hunger.

"We have to do something before they eat the ponies." She whispered to the brothers. They both looked at the small hobbit and thought the same thing.

"Yes." Kili snuck over to her and gave her a little push forward, towards danger. "Trolls are slow and stupid, so use that to your advantage."

"No, are you crazy? I can't ..." Marie paled at the thought of facing the trolls alone.

"You're so small and quiet, they'll never see you. It's perfectly safe and we'll be right behind you."

"This is as safe as juggling knives." Marie grumbled. Fili gave her another gentle push and whispered into her ear, "If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl and once like a brown owl."

"Alright," Marie gave up resisting and took a step towards the danger, but stopped. "Wait, Kili I don't know what a brown owl sounds like." But when she looked back, the two had already scarpered. Marie groaned in frustration, but it was too late to do anything else other than investigate. She took a huge breath and quietly followed the trail left by the troll.

"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey if it don't look like mutton again ..."

"Quit your groaning, these ain't sheep, these is Westnads."

The troll camp, complete with a simmering fire with a cooking pot nestled in its heart, was settled at the side of a rock face and was littered with the bones and rotten leftovers of various animals. There was an unpleasant smell in the air, likely due to the remains and whatever the trolls were cooking in their large pot.

"I don't like horse, not enough fat on them." The slimmer one of trolls sniffled, and wiped his nose with a dirty cloth.

Who would have thought that trolls had hankerchiefs too?

Marie kept low and well hidden in the bushes. She counted three troll, but there may have been more. The one she had been following placed the two ponies in a makeshift pen with the other two already missing. The placement of the pen was behind the trolls, meaning Marie might have been able to free the ponies without any hitches, that is if the trolls didn't turn around. She began creeping around the edge of the camp, staying well out of the light while the trolls complained to one another about the cooking.

She made to the pen, but Murtle snorted and started to make a racket at the sight of her. Marie tried to calm her down but the troll with the ladle and ragged leather apron heard the commotion and looked over his shoulder. All he saw was an agitated pony, and not the scared hobbit hiding behind it.

"I'm starving. Are we having horse tonight or what?" The largest of the trolls yelled to the cook, waving about a broken sword as a knife.

"Shut your cakehole, you'll eat what I'll give ya."

Marie breathed a silent breath of relief. They hadn't spotted her ... yet. She attempted to undo the rope keeping the pen together, but it was too thick for her to undo. She tugged and tugged but the rough texture of the rope started to burn her hands.

Just as she was about to give up, she spotted the very thing she need. A knife. But it was attached to the belt of the slimmer troll with the runny nose.

'_Well then, let's see if I'm as effective with trolls as I am with dwarves._' Marie crouched down on all fours and slowly inched herself towards the troll, while trying not to be sick from all the waste and half chewed bones she felt under her hands and feet.

The slimmer troll's hand stretched out in her direction and for a minute Marie thought she was done for, but the hand was blindly searching for a mug of sorts. She remained still, waiting for it to be safe again.

"Oy, that's _my_ grog." The cook hit the troll with his spoon so hard, the troll toppled over and Maire was face to face with it.

'_Don't open your eyes, don't open your eyes, don't open your eyes.'_

By some miracle, the troll had kept his eyes closed as he pushed himself back up and neither of the others had seen the hobbit.

'_Kili was right, they are slow.'_

"Oh that is beautifully balanced that is." The cook tasted his concoction, "Here," He shoved the spoon at the slimmer troll, who gladly slurped it down noisily. Marie took the opportunity to make a dash at the knife, but stopped. She had to be extra cautious and need to be slow to pull this off, but she felt a rush of fear and excitement, the same feeling she used to get when hiding from the farmers.

Once she steadied herself, she examined a possible way to slip the knife out. _'Maybe if I just ... no that won't work. Perhaps if I pull it up ...'_

While she formulated a plan, the trolls were getting hungrier and hungrier. "My guts are grumbling. I've got to snuffle something."

'_Alright then, I got thiissaaaAAW!"_

Unfortunately, the troll decided to sneeze at that moment and reached around for his hankerchief, which Marie was stand right in front of. The troll grabbed both the cloth and Marie and covered the two in green slimy snot. When the troll pulled them away from his face, he got quite the surprise.

"Bert! Look what's come out of me hoota! It's got arms and legs and everything!"

The three trolls stared down at the hobbit, who was too shocked and disgusted to be worried that she had been discovered. The troll threw her to the ground which brought her back to her senses and she thought it best to run, but the largest troll threatened her with his own blade.

"What are you then? An over sized squirrel?"

"nnnNo I'm a burgglllaarrhobbit." Marie's tongue was in a knot.

By now all three trolls realized that she was something edible and their hunger took over. "A burglarhobbit? Can we cook it?"

"We can try."

"Grab it!"

Each on tried to catch her, but each attempt was sloppy and Marie was able to dodge their hands. But the years had taken their toll and Marie was not as fast as she once was. She slipped on a bones and fell face first into the dirt, allowing one of the trolls to grab her leg. He dangled her like a doll high above the ground and prodded her with the tip of his knife.

"Here, are there anymore of you hiding where you shouldn't be?"

Marie shook her head, her face flushed with all the blood rushing to her head. "No, I'm alone."

"It's lying." The troll with a cold sneered, "Hold its toes over the fire. Make it squeal like a pig."

"Wait please!"

But it was the troll that squealed. Kili jumped from his hiding place and slashed at his leg, unleashing a fierce battle cry as he did.

"Drop her!"

The trolls looked a little dumbfounded, "You what?"

"I said, drop her." Kili's cockiness was in full view now, and Marie was sure he was going to get pulverized by the three troll.

The one holding her let out a growl and tossed her at the dwarf, knocking him clean off his feet. Once Marie was out of the way, that's when the rest of the dwarves made their move. Thorin led the charge and the other eleven ran at the trolls, aiming for their legs and stomachs. Kili joined in once he had pulled Marie away from the fight.

It was here that Marie witnessed the fighting capabilities of each individual dwarf. Some used only brute force and large war hammers to fight, others used their size and stealth to outwit the trolls. Kili, Fili and Thorin proved to be the maser swordsmen of the company.

Marie saw all this mayhem as another chance to free the ponies. Finding the troll's disregarded knife, Marie ran through the fight unnoticed and thankfully unscathed and began slicing the rope of the pen. The ponies were all frightened and desperate to flee, and gladly did so when Marie cut the rope in two.

"Come one, go. Move." She urged the four beasts away from the fight, totally unaware that she had been spotted until a thick hand wrapped around her.

"That's enough!" The large troll bellowed and brought the fight to an end, holding Marie up with his reclaimed knife pointed at her throat.

"Marie!" Kili screamed, but was held back by Thorin. One by one the dwarves stopped and backed away.

"Lay down your arms, or I slice this one open." He pressed rusted metal harder into her jugular, drawing blood. Thorin saw no choice but to surrender. He thrusted his dwarvish sword into the ground and the others followed suit.

The troll dropped Marie into the group unceremoniously and rounded the company up. While being herded, Thorin kept his head down in shame. Not because they had lost, but because a very small part of him was actually willing to chance Marie's life for the sake of winning the battle. That is until he saw the look in her eyes. It was not the fear or the pain he saw, but the simple message in them that moved him.

The simple message _'I'm sorry.'_

xxxxx

"Don't bother cooking them, let's just sit on them turn them into jelly."

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkling of sage."

"Oh, that does sound quite nice."

This did not look good for the company. Half were stripped to the undergarments and tired to a log that rotated over a rekindled fire by two of the trolls while the rest lay helpless in hemp bags, piled up on top of one another unable to stand. Marie tried kicking the bag off her, since all their hands had been bound. They had to get out of the mess somehow.

"Never mind the seasoning, it'll be dawn soon and I don't fancy being turned to stone."

The trolls had unwittingly given Marie the answer she needed. The sky was already a little brighter, so all she needed was to stall them just a little longer.

"Wait! I'm afraid you're making a very bad mistake!" She shouted. The trolls turned around and stared down at the wriggling hobbit as she tried to stand up.

"You can't reason with them Miss Marie , they're halfwits!" Dori cried from the turning spite.

"Halfwits? What does that make us?" Bofur added.

Marie ignored them for a moment and went on with her plan. "What I meant was your choice of seasoning."

The cook stopped turning the spite and crouched down, "What about the seasoning?" He said, his vulgar breath making Marie's eyes water a little.

"Well these dwarves have been traveling for weeks. And I can safely say that _none _of them have bathed in that time, I mean have you smelt them. Sage is not going to do the trick."

The dwarves took great offense to Marie's statement, not seeing her intentions.

"What do you know about cooking dwarf?" The largest troll growled at Marie but the cook seemed convinced, "Shut up and let the flurbaherbit talk."

'Good, I have their attention ... now what?'

"Thank you, the ah ... proper way to cook these types of dwarves is ... to skin them."

"What?!"

"Traitor!"

Marie cringed at the amount of backlash from the dwarves.

"Tom, get me filleting knife." The troll called to the smallest of the trio. Marie glanced over at the rocks to see if the sun had risen just yet. There was a small hint of red in the sky, but she also spotted Gandalf sneaking through the undergrowth.

He had come back.

'_Just a few more minutes.'_

"What a load of rubbish. There's nuffing like a bit of raw dwarf." The troll named 'Tom' stomped over to the pile and picked up Bombur, "Nice and crunchy."

The troll liked his lips and dangled Bombor above him, ready to chow down the plump dwarf. Marie panicked and shouted before thinking, "Not him, he's infected!"

That stopped him, "What?'

"Ah yes. He has ... worms ... in his tubes."

Tom dropped Bombur back onto the pile in disgust.

"In fact, if he's infected I wouldn't be surprised if all of them are infected with all sorts of parasites."

For some reason, the dwarves took great offense to this. "We don't have parasites, _you_ have parasites!"

Marie rolled her eyes, _'What are you Kili, twelve?'_. She looked back at the complaining dwarves and glared at them, hoping that they would at least stop talking. Only Thorin put together what the hobbit was doing. With one swift kick, the dwarves stopped and realized what they were doing wrong.

"I've got parasites as big as my arm." Oin claimed.

"Mine are the biggest parasites, I've got huge parasites!"

"I've got them too!"

"We're riddled!"

It was working. Two of the trolls bought the parasite lie and stared at the dwarves disgusted. But the largest one was still skeptical. "What would you have us do then? Let them all go?" He pushed the cook away and stood imposingly over Marie.

"I never said that. There are ways that you can get rid of the infection, but it's a very tricky task. Boiling works best, but you have to make sure that the temperature is just right. Also the older the dwarf the less time you have to leave it in the pot, but still you need to account for how badly they're infected. Do you have any Rosemary? Not only does it help get rid of parasites it brings out a sweeter flavour. If not Mint would work too, with a little bit of sugar."

The troll just stared, completely stumped. Even the dwarves were surprised o hear so much come out of Marie at once.

However the troll became frustrated and sneered his yellow teeth at Marie, "Shut you face." He flicked his hand and sent Marie into a rock, winding her badly. "The little ferret is taking us for fools."

"The Dawn will take you!"

A tall figure appeared on the boulder above the troll camp, raising his staff over his head.

"Who's that?"

"No idea."

"Can we eat him too?"

The staff came down hard and cracked the boulder in two, sunlight pouring into the camp. Marie watching in amazement at the tough skin of the trolls cracked and turned to stone, their bodies groaning as they shielded their eyes from the light before completely freezing them where the stood.

The dwarves cheered out of sheer happiness that they didn't end up as jelly or boiled stew.

Even Thorin smiled a very rare smile. Gandalf always had excellent timing.


	8. Treasures in the Horde

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

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**check it out if you'd like to.**

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Marie spent the next little while picking dried troll snot off herself as the rest of the company looked for their stolen weapons and cloths. Bombur and Bofur had to force Bifur back into his pants once he was freed from the spit. For the sake of privacy, Marie went and stood behind one of the stone trolls as they did.

"That was an interesting night." Marie said to herself, her finger trapped in a large knot of hair and snot.

"Indeed," Gandalf chuckled and appeared at her side, "I must say I'm glad that your colourful tongue is still as sharp as ever my dear." He patted her head, making Marie shuffle her feet awkwardly, "Didn't think they would buy it, I just said the first few things that came to me."

"I believe that it confused them more than anything." He tapped the troll's head with his staff, "Still, it is easy to confuse a mind with nothing in it."

"Alistair once said that."

Gandalf glanced down at her, noting the woebegone tone of her voice, but before he could question it Thorin strolled over to them. "Where did you go if I may ask?" He asked, hand resting on the hilt of his blade. It looked as though he had not seen Marie standing there, which irked her a little.

"To look ahead." Gandalf answered simply, like their previous argument had not at all passed.

"What brought you back?"

"Looking behind. Nasty business trolls. Still, good to see that you're all in one piece."

It was then Thorin chose to acknowledge the hobbit, "No thanks to your burglar." He tilted his head as he gave her an unfavourable look. Marie pulled her finger out of her hair, not wishing to give him another reason to be ridiculed by him, "It was _your_ nephews who had the bright idea to send me in first instead of warning you."

Gandalf, ever the she hobbit's champion, came forward to her defence. "She had the thought to play for time when none of you did. She may have gotten you into a mess but she did a good job of helping to get you out of it."

But Thorin was only half listening to the wizard. His gaze had dropped from Marie's dirty face to the cut on her neck, where a trail of dried blood travelled down towards her shirt collar. She was lucky that she only had a mere cut, but what of the next time they cross paths with danger?

Marie took notice of his stare but misinterpreted the meaning of it, "I'm sorry for causing such a fuss." She turned in a huff and went to join the others.

Thorin just shook his head. _'Women.'_

"Since when did Mountain Trolls venture this far south?"

"Not for an age. Not since a darker power ruled these lands." Gandalf lent on his staff and had that far off look in his eyes again. "They could not have moved in daylight, so how ...?"

Thorin looked back behind him, noticing the trail of small animal bones and trampled bushes heading out of the camp. "There must be a troll cave nearby." He looked over to his men to call them over, but hesitated as he noticed something that, oddly enough, bothered him. Marie had gone straight over to Fili, Kili and Balin, the only ones of his company that she talked to freely, and seemed more relaxed than a mere minute ago. Kili was muttering something of an apology to her, his usually grin replaced with a frown of guilt. Marie uttered a few words and patted his shoulder, instantly changing Kili's expression back to normal.

Thorin needed to suppress this unpleasant feeling brewing in him. "We're moving out!"

xxxxx

After searching to path, the dwarves and Gandalf came stumbled upon and cave under a large boulder, with the stench of death emanating from it. Marie gagged and backed off a little, as did a few of the others. The entrance of the cave was littered with more remains, but also varies pieces of wagons, furniture and even the odd goblet.

"What on all this good earth is this?" She asked, muffling her mouth with her sleeve.

"A troll horde my dear Marie. Trolls collect anything of value and hide them in underground caves." Gandalf answered briskly, unaffected by the smell as he lowered himself into the cave.

"Bofur, Nori, Gloin, you come with us. Ori you take Bifur and gather up the ponies. The rest of you wait out here." Thorin followed Gandalf's lead and climbed into the darkness, with four reluctant dwarves in tow.

"What did he say?" Oin held his ear trumpet the wrong way and missed the order. "We stay here." Marie said loudly for the old dwarf and stretched out her back, hearing something crack. What she wouldn't give for a decent night's sleep in a proper bed at that moment.

Gandalf and the selected dwarves delved further into the horde, finding at last objects of worth scattered about under thick layers of cobwebs and dust. Piles of gold pieces and small trinkets pooled at Bofur's feet, and he started to feel that dwarvish greed creeping up on him. "Seems a shame just to leave it lying around. Anyone could take it."

"Agreed." Gloin said from across the cave with glee, having found a half empty chest of silver goods, "Nori, get a shovel." The three dwarves hastily hid the now full chest in a hole and covered it in dirt, claiming it as a 'long term deposit'.

Thorin himself was not immune to the dwarvish greed. He found a stash of swords in heart of the cave and pulled two from the pile. Being a blacksmith, he could see fine work in just the hilts of the swords. "These were not made by any troll."

He handed the longer sword to Gandalf and kept the finer blade for himself.

"And not by any smith among men either." Gandalf carefully pulled the sword from hits sheath and inspect the blade, "These were forged by the High Elves of the first Age."

As soon as he heard this, Thorin's opinion of the sword lowered and he thought to put it back into the dust pile. "You could not wish for a finer blade." Gandalf said before he could do so.

Thorin frowned and pulled the blade out to see just how fine it was. It was light and easy to wield, but still strong enough to withstand a good fight. The balance was perfect, and there was a trace of elvish scripture along the edges. As much as it pained him to even think it, the craftsmanship of the sword was unparalleled and he would be a fool to not take it.

As he fitted the sword across his back, Thorin felt his boot kick something. Judging by the soud it made, it was something metal. He crouched down to brush away the dead leaves and found a small blade with a copper red hilt and charcoal coloured sheath. To a normal man this would be no bigger than a dagger, even in Thorin's hands it was too small to wield in war. The blade looked to be of the same elvish make as his new one, in fact their looked remarkably similar.

For some reason the thought of Marie appeared in his head when he held the blade. If she was going to get herself into more trouble in the future, she might as well have some form of protection.

"Gloin, Nori, Bifur, let's move on." Thorin called and headed for the exit. They all left the without hesitation and breathed in the fresh air of the morning to remove the stench from their lungs.

Marie had placed herself well away from the cave and fumbled with the leather strap of her travel bag with an expression of boredom all over her face. Thorin stomped over and held out the small blade, not saying anything. Marie just looked at the dwarf and the blade. Unsure of what to do until Thorin grumbled "Take it," she let him drop it into her outstretched hands.

She looked up and down the foreign tool before remembering her manners, "Um ... thank you Thorin."

But he was already gone when she looked up.

She slowly pulled out the sword to view it herself, marveling at its strange beauty.

"Careful now Marie."

"Honestly Gandalf, do you make a point appearing out of nowhere?" Marie was clutching her heart from shock. The wizard made a noise in his throat that she guessed was a form of a chuckle as he adjusted the long sword around his waist. "That is an elvish blade my dear. It is sharp as it is light, so mind your fingers."

Marie nodded and looked back at the metal, seeing her reflection in it. "Why would Thorin give me this? I told him that I've never used one."

Gandalf glanced over at the dwarf in question from under his large hat. This simple act, regardless of its intentions, was a good step Thorin was making.

"Well, I personally hope that you never have to." Gandalf looked back down at the hobbit, "Just remember, true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one."

Marie processed each word he had said, wondering what he meant by 'true courage'.

"Up ahead!"

"There's something coming!"

Gandalf's ancient face grew tight and he drew his sword with lightening speed, Marie just fumbled about with the hilt and pointed the small sword in front of her knowing for sure that she was holding in the right direction. The rest of the company readier their own strange weapons as the sound of rustling became louder, along with "Murder!"

Out of the thicket came a sled made of only slim branches and worn out twin, pulled by ten ... rabbits. The driver was a small man in layers of rags, furs and other various materials. His long brown beard blended into his cloths, and an odd shaped hat of brown felt sat atop and extremely filthy head. His eyes darted around wildly, almost ferrel like.

Gandalf was the only one who knew who this person was.

"Radagast." He sighed and sheathed his blade. The dwarves all looked at eachother and lowered their weapons.

'_This is a wizard?'_ Marie cocked her head and started at the strange fellow, not aware that she was still pointing her new sword at him. She only became aware when Thorin's sturdy came crashing down on her hand.

"Put that away before you hurt yourself."

Marie would have, but as Thorin was watching the two wizards he kept his hand on her's, preventing her from letting go. Marie was sure that he wasn't doing it intentionally.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Gandalf approached the startled wizard.

"I was looking for you Gandalf," Radagast was breathing heavily, "There's something terrible wrong."


	9. The Prey and the Hunted

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**I'm very happy that the responses for this story have all been positive. Please keep review and tell me your thoughts.**

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Apparently, the matter that Radagast needed to discuss with Gandalf so urgently was not of any of the dwarves' concern or that of Marie's. Thus the company was reduced to wait until the two wizards were finished before they continue on their way.

Thorin paced irritably at this further set back.

Bofur sat beside Marie on a small boulder as he sharpened the end of his large mattock weapon, humming a merry old tune as he worked, while in front of them the company splintered off into different groups to speak of mostly trivial things.

"The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf. A darkness has fallen over it." Radagast said quickly, his voice small and weasel like to Marie's ears. She didn't mean to eavesdrop since it was very rude, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. This Radagast fellow was so odd to her, and yet she found his quirky behaviour strangely relatable. She strained her hearing from her spot, just a little ways from the conversing wizards and pretending to be examining the sheath her new blade.

"Nothing grows anymore, at least nothing good. The air is fouled decay, but worst are the webs."

"Webs? What do you mean?" Gandalf pulled his pipe from his mouth and gazed the Brown wizard a questioning look.

"Spiders, Gandalf. Giant ones."

Marie shivered and decided to turn out of their talk if was going to be about spiders. She instead gave her full attention to Bofur's mattock, both scared and curious about the strange weapon. Bofur noticed her observation and held up the weapon, "I take it that you're not familiar with a mattock Miss Marie?" He asked.

"No, in fact I wasn't aware that half of these weapons even existed." She said, glancing around at the various tools of war the dwarves carried in their hands or across their backs.

"One of our many specialties. Unlike most, our weapons are made to withstand the test of time and brunt of a battle. A blacksmith takes pride in every one of his creations."

"And are you a blacksmith?"

"No, just a humble toymaker." He said with his signature grin. While Marie didn't think to place him as a toymaker when they had met, she could defiantly picture him working at a bench with his carefree attitude and a half finished toy in hand.

"But, if you are a toymaker, why would you need a weapon such as this?" She tapped he old iron of the mattock with her index finger.

"One can never be too cautious when facing a dragon."

Before Marie could manage a courteous smile in agreement, a terrible howling filled the air. Everyone was set on edge and all but Marie reached for their weapons. "Was that a wolf?"

"No, that is _not_ a wolf." Bofur held his mattock up in a defensive pose.

"Above!" Gloin cried and Marie swung round to see a mass of ragged brown and black fur and a very _very _big mouth filled with teeth appear over the rock face and leap down at the company. Bofur pulled Marie out of the monster's path, allowing Thorin a clean shot at it. He buried his new elvish blade deep into the monster's neck, killing it instantly. Another one appeared behind Thorin, but was quickly shot down by Kili. Dwalin crushed its head as it fell just to be sure.

Both creatures looked like emaciated wolves only they were as large as a pony, hides covered in scars.

Marie felt her knees knocking together as Gandalf and Radagast joined them. Thorin pulled his blade out of the carcass and grunted, "Warg scouts." Once his blade was free he stepped away from the creature with distain, "Which means an Orc pack is not far behind."

Marie saw fire in his eyes. The kind of fire that was fueled by an old hate, anticipation of a fight and something almost wild.

"Who did you tell about you quest, beyond your kin?" Gandalf's voice was grave and serious.

"No one."

"Who did you tell!?"

"No one, I swear."

But still Gandalf was acting more hyper vigilant than usual, his grey eyes darting around the area. "What in Durin's name is going on?" Thorin growled.

'_That's what I'd like to know.'_ Marie thought and clutched her sheathed sword tightly.

"You are being hunted." The wizard finally answer. "We have to get out of here, and fast." Dwalin said.

"We can't!" Ori and Bifur came running over the rocks. "We have no ponies, they've bolted." Ori said crestfallen. Marie internally groaned. _'I knew it. I knew it, I should never have left home.'_

"I'll draw them off." Came the surprisingly confident voice of Radagast. Marie looked up at the odd wizard, and saw that he had suddenly changed from quirky to 'Gandalf' like serious. Gandalf himself just shook his head at his fellow wizard.

"These are Gundabad wargs. They will outrun you."

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits. I'd like to see them try."

Needless to say, even Marie had to take him seriously with that tone of voice.

"Right. Take all that can be carried, leave the rest. We must move quickly." Thorin said and the dwarves jumped into action. "Just give me five minutes to get their attention before you do." Radagast said as he ran swiftly over to his sled, with his rabbits ready for him.

"Good luck my friend." Gandalf cried just as the wooden sled took off.

"Will he be alright?" Marie asked quietly as she slipped on her travel pack and sword, concerned for the small man. "I don't know, but we have to move Marie." Kili grabbed her pack and pulled her along. "Hold on a minute." She protest, "How do you get this blasted thing on?" She struggle with the sword's belt and fumbled around with the strips of leather.

"Here." Kili turned her around and proceeded to help her.

"Thank you Kili." She said grateful for the help, and somewhat ignorant of him leaving barely any room between them as he did.

"Kili!"

Both the dwarf and the hobbit look ahead to the owner of the voice, Thorin. "I want you and Fili on point." He ordered. Kili complied and run up to the head of the group while his uncle glared at the back of his head. Marie sped up her pace until she came along side Gandalf.

"Stay close to me Marie." He muttered. The company moved with care as they neared the end of the forest and were left exposed on a rocky valley. Packed behind one large rock, they waited until Gandalf gave the single to move. He poked his head out and watched as the large orc pack chased after Radagast.

"Move now." He said and the company began running. The terrain proved tricky to run on, but the thought of the wargs not far behind was all the incentive one needed to keep running. That is until they spotted Radagast rush by barely half a mile in front of them, with the pack hot on his tail.

"Move, move." Thorin turned them around and they head back. Marie run at the head of the group and kept up a reasonable pace. She may not have had the speed she once possessed but she still had stamina, which was more that could be said about the dwarves who were slowing down.

"This way!" Gandalf shepherded them around the rocks when they spotted Radagast again, closer this time. Thorin grew suspicious of where exactly the wizard was leading them, while the rest followed blindly.

As they rounded the rocks, Fili stared frantically waving his hand, "Warg rider." He hissed.

They all pressed into the rock face as a lone rider that had splinted off from the pack climbed up onto of the rock, the warg and the orc both sniffing the air. Marie felt her heart rise up in her throat, half choking her with anxiety. Thorin, who was standing to her left looked over at Kili and nodded to him. The young dwarf quietly unsheathed an arrow and cocked his bow. He took a deep breath and moved away from the rock to take aim. This exposed him to the enemy just long enough to get a good shot at the warg's neck. It choked violently and both creatures tumbled down in front of the waiting dwarves.

Marie gasped as she caught her first glimpse of an orc. It had a humanoid from, but its face was so badly disfigured and black flesh bulged like a plague over its body and shone with sweat and slime. It made such a terrible howling as the dwarves hacked at it and its steed, its screeching voice cut right through her. She covered her ears and grimaced at the sound of clashing steal and flesh.

"Hurry, hurry." Gandalf urged them to keep moving, for the rest of the pack had heard the cries of their fallen comrade, and knew where they were hiding. Marie did not hesitate and gladly ran. It didn't bother her that her feet and legs were being cut on sharp torn bushes that covered the ground, for an adrenaline rush filled her again, moving her tiny legs underneath her without registering the pain.

"There they are!"

Marie skidded to a halt as she saw several wargs in front of them. The orc pack was closing in, circling them. This was no ordinary pack, it was too large, too organized. Gandalf was right, they were hunting them. But for what reason?

"They're coming!"

Kili tried to keep the wargs at bay with his arrows, but there were too many. They would have no choice but to fight. Marie pulled out her sword and to her utmost surprise, it was glowing. The silver metal of the elvish handiwork had turned a blinding blue.

'_How is it ...? Why?'_

Marie shook her head and told herself to concentrate of the problem at hand. Her heart pounded hard in her ribcage to the point where every beat felt like a punch, but still she held up her sword and prepared for the worst to come.

"Where is Gandalf?" Bofur cried out.

Marie looked all around her but could not see the grey wizard. He was just there at her side a mere second ago. "He had abandoned us." Dwalin shout in frustration as the pack closed in even further.

'_Impossible. Gandalf would not leave us at a time like this ... would he?' _


	10. The Valley of Imladris

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Thank you for all the reviews, please tell me your thoughts so I can improve future chapters.**

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"Where is Gandalf?"

"He has abandoned us!"

'_Impossible. Gandalf would not leave us at a time like this ... would he?' _

"Over here! Quickly!"

Marie felt a brief sense of relief as she heard Gandalf's voice, but where did it come from? Marie looked all around until she spotted the point of his large hat rise up from behind a boulder. "In here!" Gandalf disappeared again. There must have been a hole in the rock, which meant a possible escape. Taking no chances, the dwarves and Marie made for the hole.

Bifur, Bombur and Nori were the first to climb into the hole, which was actually the opening to a cavern large enough for Gandalf to stand up in. Dori and Ori tumbled in together and were followed by Balin, Bofur and Fili.

"Quickly!" Thorin yelled at the remaining companions as he stood by the hole ready to fend off any attacks, holding both his elvish blade and battle axe firmly in his hands. Gloin and Oin reached the hole together, Dwalin and Marie close behind.

"Move lass!" Dwalin pushed her in first.

"Kili!" Thorin shouted for his nephew, who was lingering above to shoot at the orcs. He only pulled back when his supply of arrows was extremely low. Thorin and Kili slid down into the throng of dwarves packed tightly together. Marie had squeezed her way over to Gandalf and clutched at his robe. Her glowing sword visibly shaking as she held it up weakly.

The snarls and incoherent voices of the orcs drew closer to the opening but were over shadowed by the sound of a horn blaring in the distance, accompanied by a horse's whinny and the hiss of arrows flying. The dwarves looked at one another with confusion and surprise as a small battle raged above.

There was a horrible screech and a black body fell into the hole with an arrow in its chest. The dwarves parted as the carcass hit the clod stone floor, black blood pooling around it. Once it had ceased to breathe Thorin pulled out the arrow and inspected the blood soaked tip. "Elves." He snarled and tossed the arrow aside.

"What now?" Dori piped up from the back, "Do we go back up?"

"Wait." Dwalin moved Dori aside and found a narrow opening at the back of the cavern. "I can't see where the path leads. Do we follow it or not?" Dwalin shouted as he inspected it.

"Follow it of course!" Bofur answered and pushed his brother along. A collective grunt of agreement echoed in the cavern, even Gandalf nodded. "I think that would be best." He muttered.

Marie had not heard any of what the dwarves of Gandalf had said, for all she could focus on was the black corpse at her feet. It made her feel queasy and yet she could not look away, not even as the blood reached her toes. The reality of what had happened so far was catching up to her, and she was coming down from an adrenaline rush.

"Marie?"

Gandalf's old hand rested on her small shoulder in much needed support.

"I'm ... alright." She muttered. When she could finally move her eyes again, they looked to her sword first. It was no longer glowing.

"Come along. I think you'll enjoy this." Gandalf stirred her around and towards the pathway.

"What do you mean?"

"Wait and you will see."

Marie did not question him and just sheathed her sword.

The path twisted and grew narrower but it was still large enough for each dwarf to pass through, though Bombur did require assistance on the odd corner. Marie looked up above her head and saw the sky lighting their way, letting her hand slide along the rocks. The gentle grazing of skin and granite was therapeutic and calmed her down.

'_It looks like the inside of a mountain. But weren't we underground before? Did Gandalf know ... What the ...?'_

Marie pulled her hand away from the wall in shock. Water was trickling from a tiny faucet carved by nature in the side of the rocks. It flowed into a tiny stream that ran all the way to the edge of the path, which curved out into the open and along the side of the mountain. Marie looked down at the valley bellow with utter awe across her face. Hidden within lush green trees stood an elvish city, stretching up along the mountain side with its various halls and towers, with a great waterfall bring fresh water into its heart. The low light of the sun peeking out from behind the mountain created a gentle glow in the valley.

"The Valley of Imladris." Gandalf said, coming up from behind Marie, "In the common tongue it is known by another name."

"Rivendell." Marie breathed. She had read many tales that had mentioned it, and had stared at countless pictures that had tried to depict it, but never had she thought that she would even see the fabled city with her own eyes. Some of the younger dwarves were entranced by this secret haven, though only a little.

"The Last Homely House east to the sea." Gandalf lent on his staff and grinned with a tad satisfaction. This did not go unnoticed by the dwarf king.

"This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy?" He walked up to the wizard and slammed the hilt of his battle axe hard into the ground, breaking Marie's daze.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself." Gandalf tried to calm Thorin's rising temper before it got out of hand.

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us."

"Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered."

Marie watched Thorin's face fall with scepticism. As far as she could tell, Thorin would do anything to reclaim the Lonely Mountain, but whether or not his pride would allow him to seek help here was still a mystery.

Gandalf adjusted his grip on his staff and spoke in a more light hearted tone. "If we are to be successful this will need to be handled with tact and respect, and no small degree of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me."

The look Thorin gave him was like that of a child being told to off and forced to apologize, causing Marie to hide her grin behind her hand.

"Come along now. The sooner we make introductions, the sooner we may all find rest from this day." Gandalf picked up the folds of his cloak and parted the company to take the lead.

"Indeed." Marie sighed and took a step after Gandalf, but faltered as she passed Thorin. She looked up and found the dwarf staring down at her. "You could ... I don't know ... lighten up a little." Her attempt at joking with him fell flatter than a coin.

His bright eyes just continued to look down at her until she scampered away after Gandalf.

The trek down the side of the mountain into the valley was unnecessarily long, but worth it for the spectacular sight before them. Marie found herself slipping further back in the line as she kept stopping just to stare at Rivendell. The crossed over a stone carved bridge and found themselves in an open pavilion that lay at just outside the city. The tall perfectly carve statues held Marie's attention while her companions looked about with caution, like the enemy would burst out and cut them down.

"Mithrandir."

The company turned to face the newcomer descend the stairs to greet them, and Marie finally got her first glance at an elf. The elf was a tall, graceful being in along purple tunic with long dark hair held back by a circlet. His face was angled like a cat and looked as smooth as porcelain. This was not what Marie had expected. She had always imagined Elves to be more ... faerie like, for lack of a better word, but this one look more human. As he approached Gandalf, he bowed his head and held his hand out in a welcoming fashion, as he did Marie spotted the telltale pointed ears.

Gandalf repeated the action to the elf, "I must speak with Lord Elrond."

The elf's dark eyebrows rose ever so slightly at the request, "My Lord Elrond is not here." He answered curtly.

"Where is he?" Gandalf asked.

Before the elf could answer, the sound of a horn filled the valley. It was the same as the horn they had heard before. Marie turned and saw a large party on horseback riding towards them.

'_More elves?'_ She thought carelessly, unaware that she was right in the middle of their path.

Immediately the dwarves readied for a fight. "Circle up!" Thorin shouted and they packed together tightly, weapons out. "Maire, get back." Bofur pulled her into the centre, where Fili and Kili stood either side of her. The host of Elves in copper red armour rode into the pavilion and circled the company on their proud stallions, many of them carrying long banners. Marie felt a little claustrophobic with all the dwarves surrounding her.

The elves slowed their horses and looked down at them with blank expressions on their perfect faces.

"Gandalf." The leader called to the wizard with a smile. He himself carried signs of age, such as deep set lines across his brow and the corners of his mouth. Marie guessed that he was an elf of a great age and importance, and she was right.

"Lord Elrond, _Mellon-nin_." Gandalf bowed to the Lord of Rivendell and uttered something in the elvish tongue. Elrond responded in the same manner as he dismounted his black steed. He strode over to the wizard and the two shared a firm embrace as old friends. Marie stood on her tippy toes to peer around Fili's head to see better, catching a glimpse of a poorly made weapon of rusted steel and bone in Elrond's hand. "Strange for orcs to come so close to out border. Something or someone has drawn them near." He handed the sword to the elf that had greeted them.

"That would be us." Gandalf admitted. Elrond turned to the dwarves as Thorin stepped forward.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain." Elrond said.

"I do not believe we have met." Thorin's voice was cold and detached with his response, his hands that were resting on his battle axe clenched slowly.

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled Under the Mountain."

"Really? He made no mention of _you_."

Marie had not known Thorin for very long, and had no clue as to why he was so resentful of the Elves in the first place, but she did know for a fact that he was being quite rude to the Elf Lord. Elrond did not appear to be offended by Thorin's poor conduct in manners and said something in his native tongue. The difference between the two languages was more apparent to Marie now that she had heard both. While the dwarvish tongue was more gravely and rough to hear, the elvish sounded more gentle, like it was rolling off the tongue.

Only Marie took the time to appreciate it, while Gloin interpreted it as a threat. "What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?!" He bared his teeth at the elf, others too growled.

"No Master Gloin." Gandalf shook his head and grinned slightly, "He is offering you food."

If there was one thing that Marie could say about the dwarves, it was that they _never_ turn down a meal.

Not only did Elrond offer the company a place at his table, but a roof and warm bed for the night. Dinner was an interesting event, seeing is how the elvish diet did not consist of any meat. The dwarves were a little on edge and in dismay at such a thing, but Marie found the meal delightful compared to weeks of gruel and burnt meat.

Marie reveled in the world surrounding her and took in every detail. From the music she heard from far off to the shape of the trees, nothing escaped her gaze. The dwarves retired early to their shared room in a vain attempt to escape what Dwalin called the 'saccharin sweet' company of the 'pointed ears'. But Marie had a taste for exploring, fueled by the energy she felt when she stepped foot into Rivendell.

Her first port of call was the large study where they had had dinner. Marie wondered aimlessly from shelf to shelf, daring herself from time to time to remove a book. They were of course written in elvish, but Marie could still admire it. In one book she thought that she saw a rendering of the Shire. A table was set in the far corner of the study, but could barely be seen from under all the parchments and quills that cover its surface. She found herself climbing a set of stairs leading up to the second floor but there were no book or parchments.

There was a lone statue of grey stone place across from a painted mural. The statue was of a woman holding out a stone tablet with a piece of cloth, but Maire could not see what else. She looked across at the mural and examined it. It was a depiction of a battle, men and elves fighting against horde of orca and other unsightly creatures. At the centre of the painting, Marie saw a mortal man in silver armour hold up a broken sword against a black figure, surrounded in darkness. While its body looked to be made of smoke and shadow, its helmet was solid and intimidating, as was the weapon it was baring down on the man.

On its finger, Marie thought she could see a sliver of gold ... like a ring.

She was focusing so hard on the picture that she did not hear the approach of her gracious host.

"_I' lanta en' i' Mori Heru_." Elrond said in a clear voice so as not to scare the hobbit. "The Great Battle of the Last Alliance."

Marie looked up the tall elf, now dressed in a golden robe, as he looked at the picture with a hint of reminiscences in his blue eyes.

"History?" She asked politely, to which Elrond smiled and nodded. "Yes, history that has become but a fleeting memory in the hearts of many." He passed by Marie and walked towards an open balcony at the end of the floor. "Tell me Miss Baggins, how do you like Imladris?"

Marie scurried after the elf until she walked in step with him, "I am enjoying it very much."

"I am glad to hear that. It was been an age since I seen a Halfling this far east of Arthedain."

"Blame it on either a wizard of my spontaneous decision for an adventure."

Elrond's chuckle emanated deep in his chest and rest his hands on the banister. They stood and looked down at the gardens bellow. The setting sun turned everything bronze and gold, making it seem as though it was crafted by hand. Again Marie felt very small.

"I know it is a little late, but I would like to thank you for allowing us to stay here." Marie turned and bowed her head to Elrond.

"It is quite alright Miss Baggins. Rivendell is a place of refuge for those seeking it. I do not make it a habit to turn away those in need so long as their purpose does not threaten my people."

Marie bit the inside of her cheek, Elrond had not been informed of the nature of their travels for the time being and Marie did not wish to be the one with the loose tongue.

"This a place of healing, one of the few remaining places for such things left in this world." Elrond went on.

"I could feel a great energy as I entered here." Marie nodded, "Like a wave of peace."

Elrond looked down at the hobbit, "That energy is felt by those in need of healing."

"But I'm not sick nor am I injured."

"No, but something may be broken."

Marie looked away from the elf and tightened her lips.

Elrond saw the discomfort in her and said nothing more on the matter. "You carry an elvish blade?" He said when he spotted the small thing attached to her hip. Marie straightened up and nodded. "Thorin found it and gave it to me, though I can not fathom why."

"It was with Orcrist and Glamdring?"

Marie shrugged. "I guess."

"May I?" Elrond held out a hand. Marie pulled the sword out and carefully handed it to him.

It looked tiny in his hands, just slightly bigger than a normal dagger. "Indeed, this is from Gondolin. Made by the same hand that forged Orcrist, perhaps as a partner." He ran his thumb along the tiny inscription on the blade, "There is an enchantment on the steel. It will glow in the presence of Orcs and Goblins."

'_An early warning. I like that._' Marie thought. Elrond passed the sword back to Marie, "May it serve you well in the future."

"I think I'd be too afraid to use it." She muttered.

"Or wise Miss Baggins. The one who chooses the path of peace hold the same amount, if not more courage to do so than the one who walks the path of a warrior." Elrond said.

"Well, I don't know about that." Marie scoffed to herself.

'_My courage left me long ago.'_


	11. Memory of the Crescent Moon

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Thank you for the positive reviews so far. Keep them coming to help improve the story.**

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"So are we to ask for Lord Elrond's assistance or not Thorin?" Balin asked as he and Thorin trudged through Rivendell. Night had fallen over the world and the ethereal lights of the elven city, though beautiful, made both veterans uneasy.

"If he means to stand in our way, no." Thorin hooked his thumbs into his steel belt, his fur coat had been left behind since the night air was so warm. A waterfall raged under their feet as the crossed over one of the many bridges, and a gentle mist dotted their ruddy faces with water. Balin squinted his old eyes and gave a quiet grunt of annoyance, Thorin just looked ahead and ignored it.

The only reason they were out was because of Gandalf's request. He had asked that Thorin bring the map to Elrond study where the elf may be able to decode whatever secrets it may hold.

Thorin did not like this at all, having to turn to an elf for assistance. He only brought Balin for this meeting, leaving the rest of the company in their rooms. He had not seen where Marie had run off to after dinner, knowing her she was bound to land herself in trouble once more. The wide eyed look on her face at dinner was a clear sign that she would just love to explore every inch of the place. As silly as Thorin found that, there was something about it that made her look more vibrant than usual.

He had only glanced out of the corner of his eye to see her, so it must have been nothing more than a trick of the light.

Gandalf was waiting for them on the other side of the bridge, tapping the end of his staff on the smooth floor in a manner that suggested inpatients.

"Ah Thorin," The wizards stopped his tapping and straightened up, "Finally. It is not becoming to keep our host waiting."

Thorin resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Gandalf indicated with his staff for them to move on. The study was light only by moonlight and tiny candles lined against the wall. Elrond was standing in the centre looking down and speaking with none other than the hobbit herself, looking even smaller next to the elf. Her back was towards them as they came closer, but it was clear that she was talking with confidence to Elrond.

"There you are Marie," Gandalf said, "I was wondering where you had gone off." Marie turned to look at the three of them and stepped to the side. Thorin saw a trace of a smile before it faded.

The elf looked up and nodded to them, stepping forward to meet them halfway, "Gandalf, here already." His lips formed a half smile as he tilted his head back at Marie, "Miss Baggins makes for such excellent company, I was not aware of the time that had passed so quickly."

"Like her dear mother, always one for stories." Gandalf puffed out his chest, as if he was pleased that Elrond approved of his burglar.

"Indeed." Elrond turned his attention to Balin. "We have not been formally introduced."

"Balin, son of Fundin, at your service."

While they briefly exchanged formalities, Thorin took this chance to subtlety make his way over to Marie and gripped her shoulder with his large hand. She was startled by this, but did not struggle under his hold.

"What has he asked about our quest?" He murmured quickly.

"Nothing." Marie shook her head, stray tendrils of hair pulling free from her braid.

"Are you sure? He may have tricked any information out of you."

"Positive. I am not as stupid as you imagine me to be."

Thorin was taken aback by her words. He had never thought her stupid, only ... useless to a degree. "Please, you're going to leave a bruise." Marie retched up to pry away his fingers that dug into her shoulder. Again Thorin felt the warmth between their hands. Unlike the last time, he was not so hasty in removing his hand, his fingers lingering along hers for a second ... or two.

"Gandalf tells me that you have a certain map in old dwarvish." As Elrond turned back around, Thorin and Marie both took a step away from eachother. "Our business is of no concern to the elves." He hooked his thumbs once more into his belt, standing confidently before the elf.

"Oh for goodness sake Thorin, show him the map" Gandalf shook his head and lent heavily on his staff.

"It is the legacy of my people. It is mine to protect as are its secrets." Balin nodded in agreement with Thorin and joined him at his side. Marie just stood awkwardly on his other side, clearly not wanting to be quite in the middle of a brewing argument.

"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall Thorin Oakensheild." Gandalf said exasperatingly. The elf had stood in silence as Gandalf grumbled away, not showing any anger at Thorin's distrust in him. This nonchalant attitude was one of the many things that Thorin hated about elves. He remembered when Erebor was taken how the Elven King had stared down at him, void of any emotion as he watched the dwarves run for their lives. Yet Elrond's was different, more gentle. Perhaps he could be trusted, but only a little.

"You stand in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth that can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond."

Thorin weighed their options carefully. If he did show him the map the elf would immediately suspect their intentions, but still, they would be one step closer to their goal.

They could always fight their way out of Rivendell should the elves stand in their way.

With a frown on his face, he grudgingly retched into his pocket and pulled out the folded map. Balin looked slightly mortified that Thorin was giving in to the wizard's demand, but Thorin held up a hand to keep him at by while passing the map to Elrond.

The Elven Lord unfurled the old parchment and scanned its contents with a careful eye. "Erebor." He breathed, "What is your interest in this map." Thorin detected suspicion in his voice, but Gandalf was quick to put it to rest. "It's mainly academic. As you know these sorts of things may have hidden texts."

Elrond turned to way as he continued to examine the map, allowing Gandalf to give the dwarf a side glance, telling him to not to say anything for now. A soft growl emanated from the back of his throat as he stepped back. Elrond looked to the moon and held the map up, allowing the light to hit the parchment. It appeared he had found something, for he began to mutter something in elvish. Gandalf thankfully interpreted him. "Moon Runes. Such an easy thing to miss."

Thorin nodded. Moon Runes were rarely used in this age so it would make sense that Thror would encode the map with them. Against his better judgement, he glanced to his side to see the burglar's reaction. She happened to be standing in the path of light which brightened up her eyes. They looked like two pale emeralds shinning as the moonlight was captured in their depths, taking in everything. There was that spark again. They flickered across to him but Thorin just looked away. He had no time for such nonsense.

"Yes. Moon Runes can only be seen under the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day they were written." The elf turned to face them with a confident smile on his face.

"Can you read them?" Thorin asked hopefully. Elrond nodded and tilted his head towards the doorway. "Walk with me."

Just as the elf took off, Gandalf turned and said to Marie, "It would be for the best if you come too my dear."

The four of them followed the elf to an opening in the mountain where a tall flight of stairs brought them to a platform carved from the rocks, the sound of the waterfalls surrounding them was amplified by the concaved hollow, along with the sound of Marie's puffing from the steep climb. At the edge of the platform there was a large crystal, about as wide as a shield with a flat surface. Elrond walked to it and placed the map on its glittering surface, joined by Gandalf and Thorin. Balin and Marie stood a few feet away as to avoiding crowding them.

"These runes were written by the light of a crescent moon on a Midsummer's Eve nearly two hundred years ago." He said his long fingers tracing the blank space on the map were the text must have been, "Fate must be smiling upon you Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines on us tonight."

Thorin looked up in time to see clouds pull back and reveal the crescent moon. Perhaps Fate did have a hand in this, or it was just coincidence that the wizard had led them to Rivendell in time.

The moon's rays caught the side of the large crystal and it began to glow white. The light pierced the parchment and a small passage of silver runes appeared. Thorin leaned in with hungry eyes at the glowing text.

"Stand by the Grey stone when the Thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day shall shine upon the Keyhole." Elrond read aloud.

A riddle, how fitting. This new clue filled Thorin with both hope and fear. He crossed his arms and thought over it. "This is ill news. Summer is passing and Durin's Day is almost upon us."

"We still have time to find the entrance." Balin said reassuringly and stepped into the light. "We must be standing on the right spot at exactly the right time then and only then can the door be open."

"So this is your purpose? To enter the mountain?" Both Balin and Thorin had been so focused on the riddle they did not realise that they had completely given away they quest.

"What of it?" Thorin said, returning to his hostile tone.

"There are some who would not deem it wise."

Thorin snatched back the map from the Elrond. It had been in his hands long enough as far as Thorin was concerned.

"Do not forget Gandalf. You are not the only Guardian to stand watched over Middle Earth." Elrond said to the wizard. He picked up the trim of his long robe and left the four of them alone on the platform.

"Oh dear." Gandalf muttered into his beard, "This may be more complicated than planned."

"Umm I don't mean to sound naggy," The three men directed their attentions to Marie as she spoke up for the first time, "But when and what exactly is this 'Durin's Day'?" Marie's face contorted with confusion. Thorin thought it was quite amusing how little she knew about the world.

Balin took the responsibility of explaining to the hobbit as they made their way back into the heart of Rivendell. Thorin kept his eyes low as he thought of their next course of action.

"I think Thorin," Gandalf sidled alongside the dwarf, "Perhaps we will require a little more stealth than charm."

"What are you suggesting?"

xxxx

"And when the New Moon rises our new year begins. Thus the cycle starts all over."

Marie was taking in this new information with great eagerness and interest. She had learnt more that evening from both Balin and Elrond than she had in the forty nine years she had walked this earth and was enjoying it. Balin invited her to join them for some supper Bofur was preparing in their room and she gladly accepted. It was quite a shock to her when she saw at least half of the furniture being used as kindle for the small bonfire in the middle of the room.

The only one absent was Thorin of course. Whatever he and Gandalf were planning was for their ears only, so Balin was sent back to relay all that they had learnt.

Marie sat herself on the edge of a chaises lounge that had been spared with her red coat folded under her arm as a pillow, Balin stood across her using the wall to support himself. The other dwarves moved about the room creating more mess as they went, leaving dirty clothes on banisters and Old Toby shavings all over the floor. Marie swallowed any qualms she had about such behaviour and just focused on her conversation with Balin.

"We have something similar in the midwinter, it's called the Yuletide. The first two days are called the First Yule which celebrates the end of the year before the Winter Solstice. The following two days are the Second Yule, the beginning of the year. It's one of the most important events for us hobbits."

"A six day celebration? Anymore occasions you hobbits like to glorify?" Balin asked, folding his hands into his sleeves.

"We have our fair share, Yule and Lithe being the biggest. Any reason for a party and good food I guess."

Balin nodded in agreement, "I like that way of thinking."

Marie adjusted herself on the soft pillowed seat, folding her legs under her. "Balin, you lived in Erebor correct?" She spoke with caution.

"Aye."

"Could you tell me about it ... please?"

The grin he gave her was a good sign. "Where to begin?" He pondered.

"From the beginning?"

The old dwarf chuckled at Marie's wit. "Indeed. Well, long ago when the dwarves were driven from our ancient halls of Khazad-dum, they travelled East until they found the Lonely Mountain. Thrain the Old may have founded it, but it was his grandson Thror who made it the greatest stronghold of our age. He took the title of King Under the Mountain and brought honour to the line of Durin."

"You keep referring to this Durin. Just who was he?" Marie asked as she started to rebraid her hair.

"Durin was the eldest and noblest of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves, the first of our race. He is also called Durin the Deathless."

Before Balin could go on, the large door creaked open and Thorin came striding into the room, his large shoes clunking on the wooden floor with each step. Marie was thankful that she had tucked her feet in otherwise he would have trampled them. The rest of the company halted what they were doing to look at their leader.

"I take it the talk with Gandalf went well?" Balin was the only one brave enough to ask. Thorin only gave a slight tilt of the head in response. "We leave before dawn."

"Are you sure Uncle?" Kili piped up from the corner.

"Now that the elves now of our quest they will try to prevent it. We must make haste, Durin's day will come on swift winds." Thorin said. There was a general sound of consciences from the men and they slowly went back to their personal tasks, but the general mood became calmer than before. Marie was now convinced that Thorin had some pacifying influence unseen by the naked eye. He took a seat on the other end of the lounge.

"We are not going to stay longer? Shame really." Marie murmured. This caught Thorin's attention. "Were you hoping to spend day after day exploring until you remembered every inch of this place?" He pulled his pipe out in a huff.

Marie said nothing, for she had actually hoped to do that.

"You have good timing Thorin. I was just telling our burglar about Erebor." Balin said in a jolly voice. Thorin looked at Marie, appearing even more tense than usual. In fact Marie could see what she thought to be a hint fatigue in his eyes. "And what interest would a hobbit have in Erebor?" He asked. Even his voice sounded tired.

"A lot actually." Marie answered.

"Yes. Well where was I?" Balin continued with his tale, " Ah yes ... Erebor. The stronghold itself lies entirely within the mountain, carved out by the finest craftsmen. From the highest peak to the deepest mine, every step and pillar the result of hard labour. It is a city of emerald stone."

"Aye it is." Thorin breathed, a trail of smoke fleeing his parted lips. "In the Great Hall of the King, the throne sits under a reversed peak of unrefined gold which runs like veins through the mountain. The light of the rising sun that creeps in creates vast amounts of colours to brighten even step you take, some you could not possibly name. The mines and lower halls glow like crimson and amber as numerous dwarves stoke great flames, where the finest metals and jewels become things of wealth and beauty. You hear the smith's voices as they work from anywhere, as if their songs were carved into the stone so that none will forget it."

Marie was so lost in his tale that she forgot about her unfinished braid. She could hear the nostalgia laced in every word as he spoke. His tired eyes were not looking at the floor but at distant time, a time he remembered with fondness. Even Balin seemed to be lost in the memory.

"Is that why you wish to go back?" She asked in a small voice. "So that you don't forget?"

Thorin swivelled around a little and cocked his head to one side. "I wish to reclaim what is rightfully ours. It is as simple as that." He looked over Marie's shoulder towards where Fili and Kili were idly refilling their pipes, "So that those who have never seen its beauty can call it home for themselves."

"I can understand that."

Thorin gave a scoff at the hobbit's words. "What could you possibly understand?"

"My father built Bag End himself so that our family would always have a home in the Shire. If I had lost it ... I wouldn't know what to do." Her answer must have impressed Thorin for his expression softened a little. "It may not be a giant stronghold or a fine palace, but it is still a home."

"A home." Thorin whispered and looked down once more at the floor, "Indeed."

xxxx

The fire had all but burnt out as the hours rolled along. The dwarves all fell into deep slumbers across the floor and misshapen bedrolls and the humble sound of snoring filled the room.

Only Thorin was still awake for sleep would not come easily to a troubled mind. He had been silently planning their next route as the others dropped off. He had hoped to take the Gap of Rohan, but time wouldn't allow for it. The paths through the Misty Mountains would be their only choice at this point.

A slight rustle by his side momentarily distracted Thorin from his thoughts. Marie had fallen asleep still curled up on the end of the lounge.

Thorin was sure she hadn't intended to fall asleep, but as Balin continued with his stories her eyes began to droop and her body lent sideways until she was out like a light. She rested one arm under her head as her curls lay scattered around her. Her small frame rose and fell with every slow breath and her other arm was wrapped tightly around her for warmth. He found himself reaching for his thick fur coat and laying in onto of her shivering body.

She immediately responded and wrapped herself in the fur, her hair fell across her eyes and caught in those long lashes.

They day's events must have taken a toll on her, yet she looked peaceful and ... dare he say even lovely.

Again he berated himself for such foolish thoughts.

Still, he gently wiped the curls from her face and tucked them behind her pointed ears.


	12. Beneath Dreams and Fur Coats

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Thanks for all the feedback guys, please keep it coming.**

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'_Mankoi naa lle sinome? Manke naa lle autien? Khila a'oomo Cam'wethrin'_

A voice, with all the sweetness of fresh strawberries in the Spring but barely louder than a whisper, stirred Marie from her sleep. Her eyes opened and her body sat up before she even noticed the fur coat that had been covering her fell and pooled at her feet.

The voice spoke once more.

Marie felt there to be no choice but to find it.

She stepped over the prone figures of the dwarves to arrive at a set of stairs leading from the small balcony still covered in dwarf socks down into the garden below. Small faerie lights guided her past flower beds of blue lilies and white forget-me-nots. Stone statues hidden under years of growth peeked out, the white luminescence contrasting with the dark emerald leaves.

In distant groves, elves walk by in their flowing gowns as they stared up into the night sky, taking no notice of the hobbit.

'_Mankoi naa lle sinome? I' men peliannen iv ad na dail lin.'_

Marie stepped with absolute care not to make a sound, for fear that the stone path beneath her feet would crack and she would fall into the abyss. She could not explain it, but it was like she was following a thread though the garden, it pulled her and she went willingly. The moonlight pierced the groves and casted long streaks of light along her path as she drew closer to the whispering.

The stone path curved and Marie found herself at the foot of large steps leading up to a stone pavilion that sat high atop one of the waterfalls.

The whispering stopped and all Marie could hear was the gentle roar of the water.

She swallowed hard and kept on going. The air around became heavy with a think aura, like a great power lay at the end of the path. The many possibilities rattled Marie's bones.

She finally arrived at the doorway to the pavilion, where lily shaped lamps hung on each pillar to light the round construction. It felt so big and vast to Marie, reminding her just how small she really was to this world.

A tall figure whom Marie thought to be another elf, stood on the other side of the pavilion, facing the crescent moon. Marie realized quickly that it was a woman standing there, clad in a long robe that stretched out far behind her. Against her better judgement, Marie drew closer until she stood about a foot from the silver trimmed gown, but must have snapped a twig or scuffed the floor without noticing for the woman's head turned slightly. Her hair which looked like golden threads of silk falling down her lean back swayed with the motion and the shimmering material of her gown shone with different shades of silver.

Marie then saw the elf ears, confirming her thoughts.

This elf woman however was by far more fair and mysterious than her brethren, with white flawless skin and yet such strong define features worth of royalty. She even wore a glittering circlet that sat firmly on her brow and held up a portion of her hair at the back.

But despite her perfect beauty, Marie had to step away in slight fear of her gaze. The elf's eyes were as blue as the night sky behind her and as sharp as a knife.

"Mae g'ovannen Peredhil" The gravity and power of the elf's voice struck at Marie's core. It was the same voice that had led her there. "You heard my calling."

"Uh ... yes ma'am." Marie choked up. "My name is Marie. Marie Baggins." She gave a tiny curtsey which felt odd in pants.

The elf gave no sign that she had heard her and just stared down at her. It was like Marie was back in Bag End meeting Thorin for the first time, but where as he was just dismissive of her, the elf displayed no emotion. It was the passive feel about it that made Marie uneasy.

"I am known as Galadriel."

Her name alone held an ethereal ring that was delightful to hear.

"You said that you called me." Marie said once she found strength in her voice again.

Galadriel nodded. "I know that you travel with Thorin Oakenshield, at the bequest of Mithrandir."

'_Mithwho?'_ Marin blinked in confusion.

"He is known by many names. The Grey Pilgrim, Storm Crow, Istar, the Wandering Wizard."

"Gandalf?"

Again Galadriel slowly nodded as her head. "Yes."

"I wasn't aware that he had told anyone about this." Marie muttered to herself.

"He did not." Galadriel said, hearing the hobbit clearly, "The earth is keeper to all secrets in this world. Some are just good listeners."

Marie had no idea what she was talking about, and again she felt compelled to step further back as Galadriel simply gazed down at Marie. The hobbit could swear that her eyes changed colour ever so slightly, becoming lighter.

"Tell me Halfling. Why do you follow Thorin?"

Marie gave a poor light hearted scoff, "I'm not following him. Well, I mean I'm merely accompanying him, and but that I mean the company. All thirteen of them, not just Thorin." She said, just barely tripping on her words.

"Then why do you accompany him."

"Because, well ..." Marie couldn't find the real explanation herself, she looked down at the buttons on her waistcoat in an awkward fashion. "I guess my Took side got the better of me, and I felt ... I felt ..."

"You felt something you hadn't felt since you lost _him_."

Marie head shot up.

"You rarely look forward in life, only at what you had then and what you have now."

"I ... I don't understand ..."

"You know of what I speak Halfling. You know in your heart that you can not move forward without being reminded how lonely you are." The sweetness in the elf's voice turned grave and full of truth.

"Look." Marie plucked up a little courage, "I don't how you ... know these things, but let me just say that I am not lonely." A presence pressed on her subconscious, silencing her.

'_The more you look behind, the harder it will be to move on'_ Galadriel's voiced echoed in her mind, _'Listen to your own voice and trust in it, there you will find forgiveness.'_

'_Forgiveness?'_

'_For yourself.'_

Marie felt like she had been stripped bare by this elf, unable to hide or face the truth of her words. She was saved by the familiar pontificating of Gandalf in the distance. "I do not believe that Thorin Oakenshield feels he is answerable to no one, nor for that matter am I."

'_So ends this tryst Mariellena Baggins. Now ... you must wake up.'_

"Wake up."

Marie woke to someone shaking her shoulder, her eyes fluttered like a hummingbird's wings yet unable to stay open.

"What?" Her lips and throat were dry and in need of water.

'_That was all a dream?'_

Her eyes gradually adjusted to the dark and hovering above her was a face. Before she could make out whose, it was gone. She took a long breath in to fill her heavy body with the early morning air, but was hit with the smell of burnt wood and iron. She twisted her head but found herself with a facefull of fur, it tickled her nose and she wanted to sneeze but held it in. "A coat?"

"Alright. Let's pack up and be gone from here already." Marie recognized Dwalin's voice and the mumblings of the other as they packed up their supplies and weapons.

She sat up right and held the coat out in front of her.

'_This is Thorin's.'_

"Here we are Marie." Kili said as he dumped her travel pack on her lap. She had forgotten it had been left in her own unused room.

"Oh, thank you." She gave the young dwarf a polite if not slightly dazed nod of gratitude. Kili in return gave her one of his goofy smiles. His smile however faded to a serious line once he noticed what she was covered by.

"What are you doing with Thorin's coat?" He asked.

"To be honest, I have no clue. It was just here when I woke."

"Huh." Kili's brows knitted together as his mind tried to process the bits of information, "Well, come on then." He gave Marie's shoulder a 'little' tap before walking off.

But she did not immediately move. She instead continued to look at the large coat, running her fingers through the soft texture of the fur and the tough leather inside. She again breathed in the smell, the odd blend of wood and iron had an interesting appeal to the senses.

'_I wonder if Thorin smells like this.'_ Marie realized quickly how inappropriate that thought was and promptly placed the coat away from herself. He tips of her ears burned while she unfolded her own badly creased jacket.

xxxxx

With 'silent' steps, the company of fourteen left the elven halls without any encounters with the elves.

Marie felt quite sad to be leaving such a beautiful place so soon, and wished to at least say goodbye to Elrond and thank him once more. Also she was still in utter confusion from that dream. It had felt so real and yet had left her in the hazy aftershock of a dream.

Galadriel's words lingered in her mind and filled her with a desire to seek her out once more and demand answers, if she was at all real.

But, she merely followed along behind Kili with Fili close behind her. The poor dwarf kept crashing into her every time she slowed to glance back at Homely House.

"You alight Marie?" Fili said the third time this happened.

"I'm fine." Marie finally remembered something crucial. "Where is Gandalf?"

"Wouldn't have a clue. He comes and goes as he pleases, as is the wizard way."

The magenta and violet sky turned to gold as the sunrise crept into the valley, but the path they needed to make it to the Misty Mountains was still bathed in dark shadows. It was steep and hard, especially for tired hobbit feet. They all hefted the bodied up the mountain side with many grunts and quiet curses.

"Careful, we're about to step over into the Wild." Marie heard Thorin from up ahead. "Balin, you know these paths. Take the lead."

She looked back once more at Rivendell, allowing Fili and the other dwarves to pass by. Perhaps Galadriel was real. Perhaps she should stay and ... and what? It was only a dream.

"Miss Baggins. I suggest you keep up."

Marie sighed pulled her gaze away from the valley only to find it now resting on the dwarf king, looking ever the force to be reckoned with. And she was walking right towards him.

"Do you know why Gandalf is staying behind?" She asked him when she was close enough.

"He has his own business to attend to, and it is nothing that concerns the company or nosy hobbits." Thorin answer was as blunt as always but emphasized the 'nosy hobbit' part. Marie wished she had something witty to say in response, instead she held her tongue. Better to do that than sour their already precarious relationship and further.

In a way, her silence was her gratitude for his small if not mysterious act of kindness to her.

"He will join us ... later." He tacked on quietly so only Marie could hear.

He may have still turned his back on her the minute he had said it, but Marie knew now that beneath that large fur coat there was some warmth.

Even if she was wrong, she would still follow him.


	13. Battle on the Narrow Pass

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Been a while since my last update, but I have a legit reason for being late. I kept watching 'North and South' for obvious reasons of course. Feedback is always welcomed, but could I ask the about one review from 'Bilbo' and why he called Marie a whore? just so I can fix this later.**

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If a bird souring across the vast sky stretching from one end of the horizon to the other bothered to look down, it would have beheld the sight of a long drawn out line of dwarves, plus one hobbit, travelling east like ants towards the Misty Mountains.

The company hiked up steep rock faces and back down into barren valleys, tramping through vegetation as tough and unforgiving as the mountain's weather. For the sturdy and nomadic dwarves, the constant changes were dealt with in the usual dwarf fashion of sticking it out and joking about it later. Marie on the other hand struggled with the increasingly demanding journey. She had never walked as long as she had before and the fatigue was starting to take its toll on her, her usually tough hobbit feet and legs now bore tiny cuts and gashes from the trek. But she followed suit with her companions and kept her woes to herself.

Each day was a repetition of the last, making it difficult for Marie to keep track of just how long they had been travelling. On some days, Thorin would insist that they keep moving well past dusk to cover as much ground as they could and to keep one step ahead of the orc pack that had hunted them on the East road. Some of the dwarves, veterans like Gloin, Oin and Dwalin insisted that a pack would not bother pursuing them so far into the mountains and the presence of the elves would have deterred them, but Thorin's will would not be bent and so they moved on in the dark and freezing nights until their legs would at times threaten to give out beneath them. With each step made eastward, Marie could feel her heart being pulled west as if it was attached to something back there with thick rope that burned when resisted. This sensation first began not long after they had left the Valley of Imladris and left her feeling almost nauseous at times.

Had she'd know that she was going to feel like this, she would have stayed in Rivendell.

Soon Marie saw only the green of weeds and moss that crawled across the cold stone's face as their path took them right into the heart of the mountain range.

"Wait." Balin brought the company to a sudden halt at the opening to a barren stretch of land nestled in between two of the mountains and gestured to Thorin to join him. The company took this unplanned respite for all its worth and rested themselves on boulders and weapons. Marie ducked her head behind her upturned collar to shield her face from the blasts of cold air coming down from both the northern and eastern slopes.

"One thing I love about the mountains." Bofur said with a hint of sarcasm, "The constant chill you get in the bones."

"Bbbriillliiennttt ..." Marie's teeth chattered together like hooves on a cobble path, but the sound that came out of her throat made Bofur quirk his head at the hobbit. "You don't sound too good there Marie. Swallowed a bug on the way up?"

"I did." She answered bluntly. But Bofur only brushed her comment aside with a wave of his hand, "Don't worry, some stew will make it all better."

"A cup of tea would be far better." Marie muttered to herself and turned her focus elsewhere, namely the loose top button of her waistcoat hat she was fiddling between her thumb and index finger, catching her broken nails of the copper carving of an acorn on its face. She knew she shouldn't fiddle for if she accidentally twisted the thread any looser the button would pop off, but once it becomes habit then it is impossible to break.

"What is it Balin?" Thorin asked his friend, brushing past Marie and Bofur.

"The path easiest to take is this pass. It would take us right to the edge of the Greenwood. But .." Balin shook his head and look up at the sky. "I've miss timed the seasons."

"How so?"

"Look for yourself." He pointed to the black clouds hiding behind the peaks, the sound of thunder could be heard in the distance. "That storm is a large and fierce one and when it hits this whole valley will flood, then there will be no means for safe passage. We'll have to take the Narrow Pass."

Thorin knew what this meant.

"Are you sure there is no other way?"

Balin gave a deep sigh, "Though dangerous, I would rather take it than face flash floods."

"Understood." Thorin nodded and turned to bellow out this change in plans, "We make for the Narrow Pass!"

Unfortunately for Marie, she had been standing behind him when he shouted and was so surprised that she pulled her button and its thread clean from its hole.

"Oh lovely." She mumbled and pulled the worn thread from the back of it.

"You will have time to count your coins when we reach the Greenwood Miss Baggins." Thorin said.

Marie rolled her eyes and held up the inch wide piece of copper for him to see, "It's only a button. I hadn't the time or the thought to bring my purse." She corrected him, but quickly regretted doing so as his face looked like it was repressing a sneer of annoyance. She slid the button into the back pocket of her pants with surety that it would safe there.

If she had a chance in the near future she would mend the waistcoat, only for the sake of the buttons. Her father Bungo Baggins had them specially made in commemoration of Bag End's completion, and for his affinity for the large oak tree under which he built the family home which they had shared.

Marie was sure that its leaves would be changing their colours soon, and with it her garden's flowers. Most would be chocking on weeds by now and others would be dying of lack of love.

There it was, that tugging that made her eyes drift west again. This time her actions had been caught by Thorin. "Are you expecting to see the glittering lights of the Hidden Valley Miss Baggins?"

"No." She answered quickly and looked back at him to prove her point, "Why would you assume such a thing?"

"Doesn't the decor and generosity of the elves suit your tastes better than that of the Wild?"

"I wouldn't have thought you'd care what my tastes are."

"I don't."

Marie resisted the urge to pout in frustration and turned her gaze down to end their brief exchange. This irritated the dwarf who left her standing there with Bofur. "Keep a close eye on our Burglar." He ordered Bofur as he did, "We can't afford to have her falling off the path."

Bofur gave only a nod at the retreating dwarf and a confused wide eyed look to Marie, "The chief seems more high-strung than usual. Has anything foul happened between you two Marie?"

Marie answered with a stiff lip, "He just doesn't like me."

"Well, don't worry." Bofur clapped her on the shoulder, "The rest of us like you, some more than others."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." Bofur said with a cheeky grin, resisting a glance over at a certain young dwarf. "Come along. This climb will not be without its challenges."

'_Since when was anything without its challenges.'_ Marie took in a deep breath of the cold mountain air to steady her ruffled emotions, only to have her lungs freeze over.

xxxxx

The Narrow Pass was a small passage that cut along the mountain side. Every year a little more erodes away, and every step could potentially be the last if not careful. It took the company high about the earth and into the dangerous heights of the air. The path was so slight that for Bombur he had to shuffle along it sideways to balance out his impressive girth.

The storm hit them hard and fast, with the wind bringing forth droplets of rain that were the size of goose eggs and just as biting as the icy blasts of wind almost blew them off the mountain. Whatever orders Thorin bark out were lost in the wind and the fourteen unfortunate victims as the storm snuffled out the sunlight, sending the world into an early artificial night. Marie felt her nose and fingers quickly go numb and her already weary feet started to wander far too close the path edge. Had it not been for Bofur's watchful gaze and hand, she might have toppled over into the floods that raged on far below.

As the night fell, the dark grey clouds that hung above the mountains turn black and rain grew even colder. Aside from the terrifying claps of thunder and forks of lightning, a strange groaning like broken trumpets and animals in pain filled the air. It was a sound so strong Marie thought she could feel the mountain shake from it.

But she was wrong, for it was the mountain itself that groaned.

"Look out!" Dwalin screamed. Marie looked up and saw a giant boulder soaring though the sky. "Take cover!"

It hit the side of the mountain right above the Narrow Pass, shattering into smaller sharp pieces of debris that rained down onto the travellers. Marie threw her arm around her head and pressed herself into rock face to escape the falling rocks which took half of the Narrow Pass with them.

"This is no thunder storm. It's a thunder battle. Look!" Balin cried out. When Marie moved her arm away she saw what Balin was pointing at. On the other side of the ravine, she watched in horrified awe as two stone arms and a giant head pulled away from the mountain, followed by a stone torso and two legs. When it was completely free it stood even taller than the mountain it had spawned from.

Bofur stepped dangerously to the edge to get a closer look as it pulled off another chunk of the mountain, "Bless my soul, the legends were true. Giants! Stone Giants!"

"Take cover you fool!" Thorin screamed at him and Fili pulled him back in line. Just in time too, for the giant tossed the boulder high into the air. Marie felt sure it was aimed at them but she heard the groaning of another giant coming up from behind them. The boulder's impact was like an explosion as it sent to giant backwards.

The most the dwarves and Marie could do was hope and pray that they could make it past the fight and avoid being used as rocks themselves.

But before they could think of moving on the rock face cracked and spit open, dividing the company into two. They were trapped on the legs of another giant rising up from its place to join the fray. "In the name of Durin, hold on for you lives!" Marie couldn't be sure who had shouted that order, but she did not need to be told twice. Marie clung to the rock for dear life at the first giant drew closer, its footsteps shaking shards of rock free from its enormous body.

Before the giant they were trapped was fully erect, its opponent head butted it, making it crash into the mountain. From her position, Marie could see Thorin, Kili, Balin, Nori, Oin, Bifur and Gloin safely escape the leg they were trapped on.

Now Marie's half needed to find their means of escape.

The giant swivelled to regain itself before facing another blow. It was so violent that Marie might have been thrown off the creature if Dwalin hadn't placed his arm out in front of her. The opposing giant was beaten back with a stronger punch.

Marie was too terrified of dying than to be ill from all the swaying and jolting.

The third giant that had been downed earlier made its comeback and tossed a boulder, which took half the second giant's head off. The stone body began to collapse, and the first to go was its knees. They buckled under the mounting weight and which sent it straight towards the side of the mountain. Fortunately Dwalin's mind was able to fathom a plan. "When I give the word, jump for that alcove." He pointed to a small space on the mountain they were heading for.

"What?!" Marie screamed.

"Just do it!"

The pace began to build as they were propelled towards the solid rock.

"Ready lads?"

Marie squeezed her eyes shut, unable to face death.

The earth disappeared from beneath her and she fell.

'_I'm going to die.'_

CRASH!

When Marie opened her eyes, she saw she was not dead. She had fallen but unbeknownst to her, she had managed to grab onto a ledge just below where the stone had collided. She found her feet once more and both them and her numb hands gripped onto the rock as the Stone Giant fell down behind her, crashing and rolling into the flooded ravine, letting out one last howl that maybe her ears want to bleed.

"No!"

That cry of anguish couldn't only belong to Thorin. For a brief second Marie feared the worst.

"We're alive!"

The hobbit let out the breath she had held in when Bofur's voice echoed from above.

"Marie? Where's Marie?"

Marie looked up in response to her name being called, a foolish decision for the raindrops hit her eyes and blinded her monetarily. The forks of lightning did not help her cause.

"Lass!?"

"There she is!"

Bofur, Dwalin and Ori bent their heads over the ledge looking for their burglar and all appeared horrified at the sight of her dangling so far from the edge.

"Come on lass! Climb up!"

Despite not being able to see properly she began to climb back to the pass, allowing the dark blurry movement she could make out above to guide her. Her struggle to pull herself up plus the combined weight of her travel pack and her inability to get a firm hold on the rock reminded her how out of practice she was. Regardless she clawed desperately at the stone, letting it cut into her palms and fingers. She was thankful she could not feel the pain.

"Just don't look down, don't look down." She repeated over and over again. She knew if she looked down she would be paralysed with fear.

"That's it Marie, you're almost there!" Bofur reached down, Kili and Ori holding down his body so he wouldn't slip off the edge.

It was still too far for Marie.

"Someone get a rope!"

"We don't have any rope!"

Amidst the commotion above, Thorin clasped a rock protruding out from the path and swung down, his large boots catching on the rock face to steady him. "Take my hand."

Marie found herself small ledge to push her arms off from and her bloodied fingers reached for his outstretched hand. The rock supporting her however broke away and she let of a small shriek as she felt herself falling, but Thorin's large hand quickly gripped her wrist. For a second Marie could see clearly her own fear mirrored in the dwarf's face as he literally had her life in his hands. "On three, grab the ledge." He ordered.

Marie nodded and held on to his wrist tightly. "One ... two ... three." With one deep growl, he heaved Marie up and into his chest and she grabbed at the ledge. Thorin wrapped his arm around her waist and helped push her up into Bofur's arms. Marie felt hands on her arms and travel pack as she was hoisted up. Dwalin alone assisted his king back up.

"You're alright now lass." Bofur said and rubbed his hands up and down Marie's arms to both comfort and warm her shivering form.

"For a moment there I thought we'd lost our burglar for good." Dwalin grunted and brushed off small pebbles that stuck to his fur vest.

"She's been lost every since she first stepped out her door." Thorin said before Marie could even think to thank him for saving her. "Dwalin, in here."

The two taller dwarves disappeared into a small opening that was situated in the corner of the alcove. While that happened, the dwarves helped one another recover from the ordeal. Bofur kept his arm around Marie as her stirred into the opening. There they found a narrow cave that allowed enough room to house all fourteen weary travellers.

"Let's get a fire going." Gloin rubbed his meaty hands together in glee at the thought of a nice warm fire.

"No. Caves in the mountains are seldom unoccupied." Thorin said, still unsure of their safety. "Bofur, you take the first watch."

Most of the company groaned and began to pat themselves down to remove shards of stones from their beards and cloaks. Marie just sat herself down against a wall to look at her hands, slowly but surely feeling the pain seep in as the numbness wore off. Half a nail had been ripped off her ring finger and there were shades lodged deep under the surviving ones and the gashes on the knuckles.

Kili lent his bow and quiver next to Marie and knelt by her side to check up on her, "It seems fortune has not been kind to you today Marie." He held out his open hands to her, asking to look at her fingers with his eyes. He was very careful with his inspection.

"Oin. Do you have any ointments left?" He called the old dwarf over, who held up his ear trumpet.

"What lad?"

Kili repeated himself slowly, "Oh dear. I may have something." Oin rummaged around in his knapsack for the right jar.

"May have what?" Thorin asked as he passed them during a second inspection.

"Ointments. For Marie's hands." Kili showed his uncle her injuries. Thorin stared for a moment, but quickly dismissed it. "The Wild is no place for a woman, not even the roughest hands are immune to its harshness."

'_He saves me from falling to my death, then goes on to belittle me for my gender. Why didn't he just leave me back there?'_ Marie's bitter thoughts must have been made clear in her expression. Kili's hands carefully closed around hers. "He doesn't mean to be so brash Marie." He said in a gentle voice once he was sure Thorin was out of earshot, "That is just who he is."


	14. Lost

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Thanks for all the responses, keep them coming.**

* * *

In the small dark cave with only the sound of thunder and snoring to sooth the mind, Marie dreamt that she was back at Bag End as she would often do when sleep finally came.

But something was different with this dream.

_All of Bag End was empty. No cupboards, no chairs, no crockery, no books. All but Marie's armchair was gone. _

_The fireplace had no simmering blaze, just ash and soot. _

_It left the hobbit hole with a cold atmosphere, unwelcoming and lonely. _

_Marie was sitting in her chair with a book in her lap, but there were no words. She flipped page after page, but all she saw were blank pages. _

_How long had she been reading a book with no story? _

_In the silence surrounding her, she thought she heard her name being called, but from where? She closed the book and rose from her chair._

_She knew the voice, but couldn't place it. It was too far, too long ago in the mind.  
_

_Each step towards the front door felt like stepping on ice. It was so cold. Marie was hesitant to open the door, not fully knowing what was behind it, but the voice was growing more urgent. _

_The green door swung open, and all Marie could see was the green hills of Hobbiton. _

_Not a soul could be seen. Marie craned her neck to peer at the door. _

_Where was the voice?  
_

_There was but one lone figure running down the path, away from Bag End. Marie recognized the bright emerald waistcoat and blonde curls and ran out the door. _

_"Alistair!"_

_She had to follow.  
_

_She tore through the green hills past hobbit holes and fields, desperate to keep up with him. She called out to him to slow down, but to no avail._

_She followed until the hills turned into dark trees that towered over her.  
_

_Marie stopped and tried to remember where she was ... and why she was running.  
_

_Alistair was nowhere to be seen. He didn't leave her again did he, or had she been the one abandon him?  
_

_"Where am I?"  
_

_"We need to now! Come on!" It was a different, more confident voice that cried out from the dark thicket.  
_

_Move where? Marie couldn't see the path ahead anymore, only the road back home. "I need to go back."  
_

_But a hand took her own and pulled her into the dark. It was large, strong hand, firm to the touch but warm. _

_She was dragged further into the unknown, each step like lead, but Marie could bare it, so long as the hand was there to guide her, to comfort her.  
_

_But this feeling of certainty did not last for long. _

_Marie could feel her hand slipping further out of the opposing force's grasp as she struggled to keep up. She willed herself to keep moving, but the strain was too strong and her legs burned with pain._

"_Marie?" The voice she had followed whispered again and Marie turned her head to look back. _

_There was no one there._

_The last remnants of warmth left her tired body as the hand finally slipped away, leaving her to fall to the ground, cold and frightened._

"_No ...please." Marie whimpered into the dark, "Don't leave me."_

_Then the world went black._

The hobbit's eyes shoot open, seeking out what small light pieced the cracks in the cave from the outside world. She moved but an inch when she felt a sharp jab of pain from her fingers. They were crudely bandaged and tucked under her arms as Marie had waited for Oin's medicine to take affect before sleep. It seemed some pains needed time instead of ointments.

But her fingers were the least of Marie's concerns.

She sat upright from her damp bedroll and rested her head on her knees. Her dreams usually consisted of pleasant images and happy memories, sometimes presenting questions with unsolved answers. But this dream just left her feeling lost.

Lost and alone.

Marie hated it. Hated the cave, hated the mountains, and hated herself for going on this journey.

What a fine time for her to be struck with doubt and homesickness.

She scanned her eyes over her fellow company members with a conflicted heart and head.

'_You know you'll not survive another day, and you only hold them back with your decrepitude attitude. _Stay, and prove yourself._ What can a hobbit offer to fighters like the dwarves other than food? _You made a choice, stick by it._ You'll never be accepted by Thorin.'_

Marie rubbed her face harshly, leaving red lines from where the bandages had scratched her skin. She was a fool. Not even a Fool of a Took, just a fool.

With great care, she rolled up her bedroll, buckled her sword belt, slipped on her pack and slowly made her way over the sleeping dwarves. She stopped to make sure Bofur hadn't spotted her yet but he was fast asleep sit, still upright from his position as first watch.

'_Bless him.'_ Marie thought. He would be tired after watching out for her all day. She wished she could at least say goodbye to him, but then she would have to say goodbye to all of them, then leaving would be harder to do.

No, it was better this way.

She stopped at the entrance to inspect the conditions of the storm, but it was a poor decision to make.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

Marie wished the rock would break open once more and swallow her up. But alas, she had been caught by Thorin of all people. His boots crunched loudly on the grainy bed of the cave as he approached her, but did not cause the company to stir from their slumber.

Whatever pride Marie had within her, she mustered it up and said in a monotone voice, "I'm going back to Rivendell."

"You give up our quest so easily for finer company I see."

"Must you presume to know me?" Marie snapped, but still kept her eyes down. "From there I'll take the road back to the Shire. I am of no use to you so I will not burden your quest any further." Marie went on.

Thorin raised an eyebrow. "If I recall, you seemed more than happy to joy our quest. When did this change of heart occur?"

"Since I almost fell off the side of the mountain barely hours ago."

"If every man turned back at the sight of doom, then there would be no tantalizing stories to marvel children."

"I thought I was only a woman and unfit for the Wild." Marie made clear her frustration at Thorin's earlier comment.

"Look at me." Thorin growled.

She did. She glared right into his bright blue eyes, establishing a connection they had never had before. Neither blinked or faltered, only stared at the raw emotions swirling within the depths of their eyes. "You have made it clear more than once that you have no desire for me to be here, so I will not trouble you anymore."

"So I may not presume to know you yet you may to your own conclusions about me now." If Thorin raised his voice any louder, he would have woken the company. "You are under contract, remember now. You must forfill ..."

"I pick pocketed handkerchiefs and watches for a laugh when I was a child, that doesn't qualify me for anything. Gandalf was wrong, I'm not a Took. I'm just a Baggins."

"What has that to do with who you are now?"

"You wouldn't understand." Marie shook her head, "I just want to return to my home, where I belong." She tried to leave, but Thorin was not done yet. He yanked her back by the crook of her arm, "As do I." He said, his menacing scowl dangerously close to her face, "Do not think that you alone know what it means to miss your home."

"Thorin?"

Both Marie and Thorin looked towards the corner where Bofur sat. Their argument had finally woken the look out from his unplanned nap. "Is something the matter? Marie?" Bofur's eyebrows knitted together when he saw how his king was handling Marie.

Before Thorin could explain their compromising situation, Marie felt something shifting beneath them, followed by the sound of rust metal scrapping against one another. Bofur and Thorin looked to their feet when they heard the noise. As if by instinct, Marie looked down at her side to gaze at her sword. She could faintly make out a thin glowing blue line just where the sheath and hilt met. Lord Elrond's words came flooding back to her.

'_There is an enchantment on the steel. It will glow in the presence of Orcs and Goblins.'_

Marie felt the shifting again, only this time the floor began to slip through a large crack that ran from one end to the cave to the other.

Thorin grip on Marie's arm only tightened to the point of hurting her instead of him releasing her. "Wake up. All of you!" He belted so loud they would have had no choice but to wake.

The final gear shifted and the floor opened like a trap door, sending everyone whether asleep or awake down into the heart of the mountain.


	15. The Goblin King's Gift

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Another variation of plot and props to JasmineVsAngels for predicting my decision, also for some good ideas when I was a little stuck so thank you and your marvelous input. Any and all ideas are welcomed.**

* * *

Down they all rolled and tumbled, through a carved out tunnel that bended at odd angles. Their possession and weapons fell with them and once or twice collided with the dwarves. Their rough journey came to a stop in a large net made of carved wood and worn rope, built of a lone peak.

"Ohh, what in Durin's name ...?"

"Bombur get off before you suffocate us all!"

Thorin and Marie were the last to fall into the trap and had a much better view of where they were. A series of torches light up an inner cavern that could have stretched the length of the Misty Mountains.

"Where are we?" Marie asked in a petrified whisper as her eyes zoned in on the skulls mounted on the poles holding up a bridge that connected the rock pillar to the rest of the rickety path.

The design of the trap and the bridges that lead up to it pointed to only one vile race, one which Thorin had hoped to avoid more than the elves.

Goblins.

A cacophony of snarls and ear wrenching shrieks filled the cavern and Thorin watched as dozens of them crawled out of their holes and up from the deep to see their catch.

They were horrible fleshy things with the faces of disfigured bats and claws like a birds talons poised and ready as they descended upon the company. Thorin reached for any of the weapons that were scattered among them, but smaller, quicker goblins had already snatched them up to leave the dwarves defenceless.

But they would not go without a fight, especially from Dwalin and Bifur.

The snarling creatures pushed, pulled, prodded and just about yanked the hair from the dwarves' beards as the company was dragged through the dim tunnels, only stopping when one of the dwarves got a good punch in. But the sheer number of goblins made it impossible to establish any counter attack. They were brought into the heart of the Goblin Town. A city made from bones, termite infested wood, rusted weapons and reasonably fresh corpses. Magpies and rats hung from the many bridges that spread across the badly light cavern like spider webs.

More goblins crowded the path to get a glimpse of their new playthings, but were cleared by the goblins heading the group who wield worn out iron chains. Thorin turned on his heels when he heard Marie give a little yelp as a snickering goblin hanging from a loft of human bones reached down its spindly arm and grabbed a fistful of her hair, but thankfully Dwalin swatted the disgusting hand away, growling more insults than anyone dared to count. It was then Thorin noticed that she alone still had her weapon.

Straining his head to see over the gruesome scalps of the enemy, Thorin saw to where the goblins intended to take them.

In the centre of the festering maze rested a lone pavilion of sorts where a large throne made of stolen goods and animal skins rested. One by one the company was brought across the narrow bridge and rounded up like cattle for all of the goblins and their king to see.

The Goblin King was the very image one would conjure when thinking of gluttony, hideousness and downright foulness, complete with a crown of bones. All ten feet of his molded hide oozed over every inch of his throne as he picked at his fingernails with his sceptre of skulls, his glassy eyes passing over his offering of prisoners and their stolen weapons. His slid off the old throne and landed with squelching thud onto the platform. "Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassin's?"

"Dwarves your Malevolence." One of the head goblins with a high nasal voice answered.

"Dwarves? Here?"

"Found them on the front porch."

Thorin ground his teeth together. He would not be treated as if they were waste left to the side.

The Goblin King pointed his sceptre at the company, "Don't just stand there, search them!" The dwarves were again handled like satchels and stripped of the meaningless of trinkets. Thorin prayed that they would not find the map or key. If they fell into the goblin's hands, the quest was lost. Thorin struggled against his captures, even with blades ready to bleed him everywhere he looked.

"Look. This one ain't a dwarf." Another goblin squealed and pulled Marie through the group. Oin, Dori and Kili tried in vain to take her back but the goblins moved like worms and easily filled the space between Marie and the dwarves. They brought her to the front to present their find to their king.

"Well bless my boils. A little hole builder, all the way from the west." The goblin King chuckled. His subjects who lined the surrounding walls and platforms gave a terrible squall as they stared down at Marie. She clutched the sword still sheathed at her side but did not have the wit to use it. Thorin could tell she was as scared as a rabbit trapped by a wolf pack.

"And she's armed, how charming. Bring me her weapon."

Two goblins rushed to carry out the king's command, their sharp claws tugged and picked at her belt buckle. "Get off me!" Marie tried to push away the goblins, but the snarled and spat in her face. One even ripped the brass buttons off her waistcoat in the struggle, the little round pieces bounced and rolled across the wood for other smaller goblins to snatch up for themselves. Several of the dwarves had a great fuss at the sight of the little hobbit being handled so violently, and Kili shouted the loudest.

When the leather band finally gave way, the head goblin guard who spoke before took the small blade and handed it to the Goblin King. He held it tip to tip between his fat thumb and index finger.

"Not much of anything, not even a tooth pick." The ghastly monster huffed and tossed Marie's sword over the platform, its destination the dark abyss bellow. Marie made a small noise of outcry that made the goblins snigger.

"Any more goodies you'd like to share, hole builder?" The Goblin King held out his greedy hand for more and the goblin started poking her feet with knives and bones.

The Goblin King grinning face morphed into inquisitive the more he stared down at Marie, "Your face seems familiar, like I have beheld before. Bring her to me."

"Leave her be."

It went silent as Thorin stepped forward, the dwarves and goblins parting for him. He did not fully understand whether it was his sense of honor to those in distress or his small genuine concern for Marie that made him speak up. Either way, he placed himself in front of the hobbit.

The king's eyes widened and a smug look came across his face. "Well, well, well. Look who it is."

Thorin gentle pushed Marie further from him to put her out of the Goblin King's reach.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. King Under the Mountain." The king gave Thorin a mock bow but quickly, if he could be at all quick, stood upright once more, "Oh, but I'm forgetting you don't have a mountain, and you're not a king, which makes you _nobody_ really."

Thorin gave no reaction to the insult. He had grown accustom to being treat both as the king he rightfully was, and a pauper scraping for a living in the towns of men.

"Now my little hole builder, come forward." The Goblin King waved his sceptre at Marie, the skulls of it jangled loudly. Marie took small step out from behind Thorin, but his arm shot out and prevented her from any further, keeping them level with one another.

"Mmm yes." The gobbling King caught Marie's chin with the end of his sceptre and twisted her face back and forth. It became disconcerting when he began to laugh. "Haha of course. How can one forget a nose like that." He poke Marie's nose with sceptre. "I was a young goblin at that time, but I will never forget that face. The face of one who helped made me king."

"What?" Marie stopped tending her nose and stared confused at the Goblin King.

"The largest of your kind, bold as he was foolhardy, was kind enough to remove the head of my predecessor with his club some years ago. He might have stolen of victory, but I gained my crown thank to him."

"Bullroarer Took? That story was true?" Marie's jaw hung open.

"A shame really. For one so large to have such tiny descendents." The whole cavern was filled with the grunting and screeching of laughter at Marie's expense, but the king raised a hand to silence them, "But still. I shall show mercy in respect for the Bullroarer's kin and also bestow a great honor upon you."

"And what is this honor?" Thorin asked, staring at the creature from under hooded eyebrows while simultaneously tugging Marie back inch by inch.

The Goblin King gave Thorin a fleeting glance and a deep chuckle that herald ill will. "Little hole builder, your death with be quick and ... reasonably painless. And you will be honored when I place you head on my throne."

The cavern erupted with noise again, cheers from the goblins and yelling from the dwarves.

"Over our dead bodies will we let you harm her." Bofur said firmly, his brothers backing on that.

The only ones to be silent were the mortified Marie and the scowling Thorin, who gave Marie a gentle push backwards. She found herself enveloped by the dwarves, Bofur and Doir standing in front while the rest surrounded her, Kili even wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I know someone who would pay a pretty price for _your_ head." The king now addressed Thorin, "Perhaps you know of whom I speak. An old enemy of yours."

For a moment, only one name came to Thorin, but it was impossible for it to be true. But what the Goblin King said next was highly unnerving

"A pale Orc astride a White Warg."

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain long ago." Thorin stated loud and clear. But the goblins all sneered and laughed at the statement.

"So you think his defiling days are?" The king laughed and waved to his messenger, "Send word to the Pale Orc. Tell Him I have found his prize." The messenger nodded and disappeared off into the cavern via a transportation line. "And as for me, I will have my own prize."

The dwarves packed in tightly to protect Marie, but the goblins began striking at them with spears and their chains to break up the defence. It wasn't long before Marie was separated and restrained by two goblins near the edge of the platform. Thorin tried to throw off the burly goblins that held him back and failed. The goblins began to chant in their twisted language, begging to see spilt blood.

"Remember, make it as clean as you can. I did promise mercy." He king ordered and another goblin stepped out of the crowd as Marie's executioner.

"Wait, please. Please!" Marie's eyes welled up with tears of fear as she begged for her life, but this only amused the Goblin King further. Thorin felt dread in his gut and tried once more to free himself. Once he stopped struggling, he finally took notice of Fili reaching under his arm brace for a small dagger he kept hidden.

The goblins held Marie out by the arms and the executioner readied his blade at her neck. Just as it pulled back, Thorin gave the word. "Fili, now!"

His nephew aimed good and true, his dagger landing in between the eyes of the goblin. Its arm was still in motion but took off the head of one of Marie's captures. The goblins squealed in protest to the attack and the king growled. For a brief moment Thorin felt relief that he did not have the hobbit's blood on his hands, but it was all too soon. The now beheaded goblin still had an iron grip on Marie's arm, and the rest of its corpse started to tumble backwards, over the edge of the platform. Both Marie and the remaining goblin were still in a moment of confusion and could not stop themselves from being dragged over the edge.

The screams of both Marie and the goblin blended into a single sound.

"Marie!"

No one could tell who had screamed out the hobbit's name, for the voice was so raw and pained it was unrecognizable.

"You dwarves will pay for letting my prize get away like that. Bring up the Bone Breaker." The Goblin King shouted, his subject buzzing at the thought of more torture. "I believe the King of Nothing needs entertainment."

But Thorin was not listening to the goblin. He just stared at where had disappeared, unable to believe what he had seen.

Marie was gone.


	16. Bittersweet Guilt

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Just a small little filler chapter with Marie and her papa. Thanks for all the feedback so far.**

* * *

Darkness.

It swallows up everything into its cold embrace and leaves one frozen until numbness remains.

Maybe it was the same in death.

At least that's what Marie thought.

Instead of the void of death many expected when facing death, she found herself in a past memory of a particular Autumn morning many years ago.

Although she could not recall the sensations of scent of touch, and the sounds were softer than a mother's whispering to her child, the images played out before her as vivid as if she was there again, barely a day over nineteen, rosy cheeked and budding into a fine Baggins.

Herself and Bungo Baggins were sitting together on the little wooden bench in the garden. Bungo had his long pipe in hand and was showing Marie how to form smoke rings while she pondered on his riddles. The earliest parts of the conversation were hazy, but Marie remembered the smoke rings, and how they disappeared into the grey sky as the wind carried it away.

Why had she been hiding outside again?

Oh yes, she was supposed to help dust off the bookshelves once Belladonna was finished sorting out the jams from second breakfast, but the taste of another trip to Northfarthing had been sitting on her tongue all morning.

She was waiting for Alistair.

"Hobson Gamgee should be round later with 'the item'." Bungo said, his pipe wedged in the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, you mean the roses you ..."

"Hush dear Mar." He patted her knee. Marie was too excited for her mother's gift to remember it was a surprise. "Our last few weeks of secrets will be all for nothing."

"Sorry Papa." Marie took his hand and grinned. It should have been warm, yet it wasn't. "I'm sure Mama will love them. But where did Mr Gamgee find them?"

"His cousin out near Bindbole Wood brought down a few branches. I'm hoping that they can still be replanted." Smoke seeped out of his lips as Bungo spoke.

"I still can't believe it's Mama's birthday next week." Marie's feet swung back and forth, "It will be nice to see Aunt Mirabella and Uncle Isembard."

"Indeed. Now remember, no mischief. Herdrick Burrow is not happy about you and Alistair bullying his son."

"We do not bully Harold Papa. We're just making merriment ... at his expense. It's harmless fun." Marie said with as much innocence as she could muster to hide her laughter.

"Just promise me you won't cause trouble." Bungo gave her hand a squeeze.

"Alright, I promise. Mama will be happy to hear that."

"Yes she will. Now, have you an answer to my riddle yet?" Bungo grinned while Marie groaned, "I told you, let me think."

"It's really quite simple Mar."

"But you never give me enough time Papa."

"You've had plenty of time, but you spent it on what you will do today no doubt."

"Maybe I did."

Bungo's belly laugh was muffle and strange to Marie.

"One more time Mar. 'Lives without a body, hears without ears, speaks without a mouth, to which the air alone gives birth.' What is the answer?"

"It's ... oh ... uuggghhh. Damn!"

"Mariellena."

"Sorry." Marie apologized meekly. "It is a ..."

"An echo?"

Both father and daughter looked up at the owner of the voice standing at the gate with a devilish grin and hands in his coat pockets. "Correct young Alistair." Bungo pointed his pipe at the young hobbit while Marie beamed up at him and leaped to her feet. "Good morning Al." Marie passed though the open gate and looked back at her father. "I should be home by supper."

"And not a moment longer. It's getting colder in the evenings now." Bungo said.

"I will Papa."

"And you Alistair Took. If I hear word of you trespassing with my Mar as an accomplice one more time, you and I will have to have serious words." Bungo threatened him with the end of his pipe.

Alistair ran his fingers through his golden curls, "You have my word Mr Baggins. Marie will be safe with me."

Bungo's grin returned. "I believe I'm owed a riddle Mar." He popped the pipe in his mouth, anticipating the afor mentioned riddle.

Marie looked along the fence that encircled Bag End as she thought of a good one, the green grass appeared even darker in the Autumn and Winter, like a pure emerald.

"Bound so cold with stone, thatch and wood, yet holds more warmth than any hearth ever could."

Bungo's bushy eyebrows wriggled up and down as he processed her words. "I've never heard that one before."

Marie slipped her hand into the crook of Alistair's arm like it was mere fog, a smug grin on her young lips. "It's one I made myself."

"Oh dear. It's not a heart ... fire maybe."

Marie glanced up at the bare branches of the oak tree, their leaves sat around the top of Bag End like a rusted crown, "It's a home."

She had expected to hear a hearty chuckle from her father, to look down and see him rocking back into the bench with his cheeks ruddy red as Alistair steered her down the road like she remembered. But what she saw and heard caught her so off guard that the memory slowed down around her.

In her father's place sat Thorin, his strange pipe resting in his hand while the other braced itself on his knee. His face was soft and tired, partially hidden under his black hair. Marie had seen this side of him only once before, at Rivendell.

"A home," He murmured. "Indeed."

Behind his imposing frame, brooding attitude and overall roughness, Marie saw the decades of sadness, the bitter sweetness of memories recalled and the vulnerable position the hard dwarf was placed in, all in that tiny moment. All he wanted was to go home, to where he belonged.

_'Do not think you are the only one to understand.'  
_

How insensitive she had been. What was a few weeks compared to decades, centuries even, of wish for home? Marie now knew that she had been wrong to presume she was alone in her misery. She was just about to let herself be consumed by guilt until a pair of blue eyes flashed before her.

'_You rarely look forward in life, only at what you had then and what you have now. The more you look behind, the harder it will be to move on'_

As she was steered away further and further towards the memory, she looked back at the dwarf.

Or was she looking to the future?

She opened her mouth to call out to Thorin, but was overwhelmed by an earsplitting sound that reverberated in her head, like heavy metal colliding. Despite the pain it brought, there was a pleasant ring within the folds of its knell. The sound shook the foundations of the memory and the tree line behind Bag End began to fade away.

Thorin raised his head and look to the east. "We need to move."

The sound chimed out loud and strong once again.

Marie pulled away from the apparition of Alistair, who faded into the blurry past. She reached out with a bloodied, aged hand which Thorin grasped firmly. It was then she could once again feel something.

Pain ... and the cold.


	17. Does it like Games'

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**So, it has come to the famous Riddles scene. Took me a while but I got there. I think I was distracted with trying to find footage of Richard Armitage in 'Cats' 1994.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"_Gollum ... gollum_."

Marie's eyes would not open, it hurt too much. The most she could move was her head a quarter of an inch, but even that brought sharp jolts of pain.

A brief flash of memories hit her, the weight of the goblins pulling her backwards ... the frantic grabbing at nothing as they fell ... the burning of ropes as they tore the bandages off her hand ... the first impact with the rocks ... the tumbling ... the soft landing.

Soft?

When her eyelashes became unstuck from the flakes of chipped stone, her sight was filled with dark brown plants that resembled deformed mushrooms.

"_Gollum ... gollum_ Aaahh!"

Marie tensed as the terrible choking bounces from wall to wall and every one of her sense came to life. Through the mushrooms, she could make out the second goblin that fell with her being dragged deeper into the unknown chasm, by what Marie did not wish to learn in a hurry. At first she thought it to be a fresh corpse but its bloody chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. It was still alive, but not for much longer.

"Nasty goblinses. _Better than old bones precious ... better than nothing_." The raspy voice of the unseen creature faded further into the dark.

The little hobbit held her breath as she waited until the sound was no more than a distant echo.

Marie willed herself to sit up, causing all her body to cry out as a choir of aching muscles. The rubbery surface of the mushrooms provided a soft enough surface to push herself up onto her shaky legs. She looked around at the high walls that entombed her, yellow and brass coloured moss grew in patches on black and silver stone. The ground was hard and slipperier, and not to mention covered with shattered bones and rotting flesh that made Marie's stomach churn as she stepped out of the mushroom patch. It was a world untouched by neither good nor evil, real life nor permanent death.

With a roll of a shoulder she felt a small crack at the junction between her shoulder and neck and the tension there dissipated. It was a stroke of dumb luck that she was alive after a fall like that, but luck it would seemed was favouring Marie for the time being since just beyond the patch of mushrooms she caught sight of her sword, dangling by its belt and sheath on the rocks.

'_I must be in the running for a third stroke of luck now.'_ Marie almost voiced her thoughts but stopped, knowing any sound she'd make would attract the creature that lurked nearby.

A cold wetness ran down the side of her face. Marie immediately felt for any gashes or cuts that she had not aware of, yet couldn't feel anything other than what she thought was her blood. Her hand crept from her temple to her crown, still nothing but wet curls. She yanked her hand away and saw her fingers and the scraps of bandages stained black.

It wasn't her blood.

The realisation that her 'soft' landing may not have been just the mushrooms made Marie, against her better judgement, looked back at the landing site. The headless body of the other goblin was lying twisted and broken, bleeding out onto the cold ground and had cushioned Marie's landing.

She doubled over and fell to her hands and knees as her stomach gave painful convulsions that forced what little there was in her stomach up into her throat. The bitter acidic taste made her feel even sicker but she could ill afford to make any noise, so with a giant gulp she re-ingested the horrible bile.

Marie curled her fingers into balls to try and bare both pain and disgust.

'_So much for luck ... wait ...'_

Something pressed into her right palm when she clenched it. It could have been a rock, but it felt ... round. Marie sat back on her heels and raised her closed fist to inspect the unknown object. She opened her hand and beheld a ring. A simple golden ring in prime condition, no scratches or smudges, nothing. Just plain gold that caught in some unknown light as she turned it in her fingers. She was mindful not to stain it with blood as she brought it closer to her face.

An unexpected find in such a place and Marie's fingers closed around the ring.

She pulled herself to her feet and remembered her present situation. She needed to find her way back to the dwarves or at least a way out of the mountain. She slipped the ring into the right pocket of her waistcoat and tiptoed to retrieve her sword. The blue glow of the blade was visible through the thin slit between the hilt and the sheath, meaning that there were more goblins close by.

She carefully freed the leather belt from the rocks. The belt itself wasn't badly damaged and could still be used.

"Nnnnnooooooooouuuuuggghhh."

The hairs on the back of Marie's neck stood on end from the wailing coming from just around the bend and she instinctively grabbed the sword's hilt.

"Too many boneses precious, not enough flesh! _Shut up! Cut its skin off._"

Unlike the sensible hobbit she usually was, she went towards the danger on the grounds that maybe the way out of the cavern was that way. She quickly tied the belt around her waist in a crude not, pulled out the blade quietly and crept around the rocks.

What Marie saw was a huge cave that looked to span a kilometre wide and a kilometre high with a large black lake. Moonlight that found its way into the mountains offered some light in the darkness, reflecting off the still surface and onto the walls and jagged rocks rose out of the water, one of which the mysterious creature, whose silhouette of the creature resemble what Marie thought to be a goblin, sat with its prey, groaning and make choking noises as the goblin let out the occasional growl. Marie scampered behind a large rock to hide the glow of her sword, ignoring the piles of fish and bat bones, among other things.

"_The cold hard lands, they bites our hands, they gnaws our feet.  
The rocks and stone, they're like old bones, all bare of meat."_

The creature struck the goblin across the head in time with its merry off key singing, like when the little old dwarf women at the markets would hum away when plucking poultry.

"_Cold as death, without no breath is good to eat."_

_Tink._

Marie had let her hold on her sword grow slack and the tip had fallen to the ground. She pulled it back up and pressed herself into the hard rock, praying that the creature didn't hear the sword drop. The cavern went quiet and the glow of the sword flickered until it completely died. The goblin was dead, and the singing had stopped.

'_Maybe it's eating now.'_ A horrible thought to have, but far better than the alternative of the creature coming to bash her head in with a rock.

It was still too quiet.

Marie breathed deep through her nose to calm herself, but stopped when she heard the ragged, congested sounding breathing that was coming closer, and it was coming from above.

She slowly looked up and saw a hand reaching up over the rock, followed by a head and a torso. Its eyes where glowing from the water's reflection and for a moment, Marie believed that they would be the last thing she would see. The creature leapt down and Marie came face to face with ... two wide eyes the colour of blue. The creature looked more human like than anything and appeared to be no bigger than Marie was. In fact she could swear that, for just a few seconds, she was staring at a sickly hobbit.

"_Bless us and splash us precious_. That's a meaty mouthful." It said with a large grin.

It took Marie a moment to recompose herself and process what it had just said. She didn't wish to be anything's next meal. Before the ... creature could come any closer she raised her sword between them, pointing the tip at the hollow of its neck.

"_Gollum, gollum_." It sounded like it was going to cough up something onto Marie's lap but it back off in fear of the blade. Marie pushed it towards the creature, forcing it further from herself as she got to her feet. "Stay back. Don't come any closer to me." Her voice did not sound like her own, it was too gravelly.

The creature crawled away to sit near another rock, its breath loud and sickly. "_It's got an elvish blade, but it's not and elfes_." It muttered. Marie got a better look at the creature as it had its back to her. It was so skinny that it might have been a moving skeleton with a thin layer of pale, blotched skin pulled over the bones while a few strands of grey hair stuck to its scalp and large ears. The only piece of clothing it had was a shredded loincloth hed together with thin sting and a tiny pouch. Its hands and feet seemed disproportionate from the rest of the body. It may have looked weak, but Marie's gut told her not to lower her sword just yet. "Not an elfes no. What is it precious? ... What is it?" The creature turned back to her, its face twisted with a mixture of disgust and confusion.

"My name ... is Marie Baggins."

The creature cocked his head and appeared more confused than before. "_Bagginses? ... What is a Bagginses precious?_"

"I'm a hobbit ... from the Shire."

"Oh, ohahahaha." The creature shook its head as it laughed, "We like goblinses, batses and fishes. But we hasn't tried hobbitses before." Marie didn't like to carefree tone it was taking, nor did she like the sudden intensity that filled its eyes, changing them. "_Is it soft_?" It crawled back to her, "_Is it juicy_?"

"Now just ..." Marie swung her sword back and forth clumsily to ward it off, "Just keep your distance. I _will_ use this."

The creature screeched in defiance but stayed away from the swinging metal.

"I don't want any trouble. If you could just point me in the right direction, I'll be on my way." Marie pleaded.

"_Why? Is it lost_?" He, Marie guessed it may have been a he once before, pulled itself behind the rock.

"Yes and I want to get unlost promptly."

"Oh, we knows." He popped his head back up and pointed a long bony finger into the cave, "We knows safe paths for hobbitses. Safe paths in the dark _Shut up_!"

Marie jerked her head back in shock, "I didn't anything."

"_We wasn't talking to you._" He grumbled before ducking his head again, "Oh yes we was precious, we was."

The creature's constant flipping between emotions made Marie uneasy and unsure how to be, "Look I'm not quite sure what game you're playing at but I ..."

"Games?! Oh yes we love games." The creature jumped with glee onto the rock, "Does it like games? Does it? Does it like to play?" The look of excitement on his face almost deterred any fear Marie may have had and she answered with a shrug, "Occasionally."

His mouth formed noiseless words before something came out. "What has roots that nobody see, is taller than trees. Up, up, up it goes and yet never grows."

'_A riddle?'_ Marie never expect to hear that come out of such a thing, but knew the answer all the same, "The mountain." The creature was pleased and let out another strange laugh that sounded like it was festering in the base of his throat. "Let's have another. Come on, do it. Do it again, come on _No! No more riddles no_!" He jumped of the rock and crawled to the water's edge, looking back at the hobbit with pinpoint eyes. "_Finish it. Finish it now gollum ... gollum_."

"I want to play." Marie blurted out quickly. "I want to play a game."

It was now clear to her that this being held two very different personas, one more violent than the other and in charge no matter what. If she could keep one at bay and satisfied, she may yet stall the other long enough to find the way out.

"I can see that you are very, _very_ clever. Clever enough to fool a dozen men."

It was working. The sunken in face that was so full of rage dropped for but a second and a new one stared up at Marie. She had the passive side's attention, now she had to keep it. "How about a game of Riddles? You like riddles yes?" Marie moved the sword so that the blade faced away from him, showing that she meant no threat.

'_Just stay calm Marie. Play to his needs and your strengths.'_

"Yes, yes yes." He hopped like a frog over to her side. "Does it like riddles?"

"Yes. How about this? If I win, you show me the safest paths out of the mountain. Fair?"

He nodded, "Yes, yes_ mmmgghh_." The other personality took over again. "_And if it loses, what then?_ Well ... hehe ... if it loses precious then we eats it hehe ... if Bagginses loses we eats it whole, mm?"

'_Oh dear.'_ Marie was having doubts about her plan, but it was her best and only chance. "Fair enough."

Marie took a step back from the creature to sheath her sword, and to put as much ground between them. Should this game turn sour, Marie wanted a head start in running. The creature's dominant half watched carefully as the silver blade slid into its casing before allowing the more diminutive half to resume control.

"Well Bagginses first." He rested his hands a head on the rock, looking up expectantly.

Marie cleared her throat and began the game. "Thirty white horses on a red hill. First they champ, then they stamp, then they stand still."

The creature's face lit up as it processed the riddle. His eyes fluttered every second and his mouth moved up and down as he thought he had it but lost it in a second. Marie felt confident that she may yet win.

"Teeth?"

Then again she may not.

"Teeth!" The creature laughed and applauded his little victory. Marie forced a smile to play along but quickly dropped it when the creature said menacingly, "Yes, but we _only have nine_." He bared the nine rotten and chipped teeth at Marie, but they looked more like fangs to her.

"Our turn." He circled round the rock, letting his fingers slide on the jagged surface, "_Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters_. Ohh oohh, we knows, we knows _Shut up!_"

"The wind, of course." Maire said with a smirk which irked the creature. He growled through his nine teeth and blackened gums, "_Very clever hobbitses, very clever_."

Marie quickly came up with the next riddle before it could do anything. It just so happened to be one that everyone she knew got wrong. "A box without a hinges, key or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid."

'_Thorin's heart.' _

That was the first answer that came to mind for the hobbit, but it was not the correct one nor was it the most appropriate one.

The creature twiddled his fingers like he was trying to open the unknown object. "A box ... a key ... no ... _it's nasty_ ... a lid ..."

"Well?" Marie asked.

"Oh give us a chance precious, give us a chance!" He banged his fists on the ground and strained his face so hard, the thin veins rose like tiny mountains along his head as he tried to find an answer. Marie was sure that she made such a face a few times when she was a child.

"Eggses!" He screeched, "Wet crunchy little eggses. Grandma taught us to suck them yes."

Marie bit her lip in frustration, she felt so sure that he would not get that one. Unfortunately, she took her eyes off the creature for a second and allowed him the chance to slip into the shadows.

"_We have one ... for you_." Marie looked around herself to try and find him, but his voice was everyone at once. He could have been anywhere she had her back to, but no matter where she turned she was open to an attack.

"_All things it devours, birds, beasts, trees and flowers. Gnaws at iron, bites at steel, grinds hard stone to meal_."

Marie's breathing grew more erratic as she became more panicked, waving her arms behind her and in front to feel for anything. She hadn't heard this riddle before.

"_Answer us_."

"Wait just a moment. I gave you a good long while." Marie said, her voice sounded constricted from trying to hold it together. "Devours all things ... birds ... beasts ... trees? ... I don't this one ..."

"_Is it taaaaasssstttyyyyy? Is it sccccrrrruuuumptioooouuussssss_?" Marie felt cold fingertips reaching for her neck. "_Is it crunchable_?"

She jumped away just before the creature could close his fingers around her neck. He was crouched on another rock close to the high cave wall, his knees tucked right under his chin as he stared with evil in his eyes. The light reflecting off the water lit up his face until it was almost translucent.

"Now wait." Marie held up her hand to stop something, but what? The creature if he lunged at her? Any further disconcerting comments he made? Time itself?

"_It's stuck. Bagginses is stuck_."

Marie shook her head. "I said ... give me a moment."

'_I told you, let me think.'_

'_It's really quite simple Mar.'_

'_But you never give me enough time.'_

Devours all things. Can eat away iron and stone. Never enough of.

'_Never enough ... time ... time ...'_ "Time."

The look of shock on the creatures face was all Marie needed to be sure. "The answer is time."

He gritted his teeth to suppress a growl, Marie had to jump back to avoid the flying gobs of saliva. "_Last question precious. Last chance_." The little hobbit did not see the large stone the creature had coiled in his hand.

Marie tried to pick a riddle, but the creature's impatience and her nerves were not making the choice easy. "Ask us. _Ask us_!"

She mimicked her father's habit of hooking her thumbs into her waistcoat as she thumbed through the mind's library, but she was distracted by her thumb brushing against something smooth. She had forgotten about the ring she had found. She resisted looking down at her pocket and pulling it out to admire, for an idea popped into her head. The creature wanted a question, then a question he will have.

"What have I got in my pocket?"

The creature blinked in surprise, turning up his nose and shaking her head. "_That's not fair_. That's not fair, it's against the rules!" He threw the rock hard onto the ground where it bounced off another and landed just off the water's edge. "Ask us another one."

"You said to ask you a question. _That_ is my question." Marie said and moved her hands away from the waistcoat. "What have I got in my pocket?"

The creature launched itself off the rock and landed in pile of bones, "_Three guesses precious, it must give up three_." He demanded, holding up two fingers.

"Alright then, three."

"Handses!"

Marie held up both hands. "Wrong. Two more goes."

"Oooooohhhh ... fish bones, goblin's teeth, bats wingses, broken shells ... uuggghhhaaahhhh! Knife! _No shut up_." He belted his head in for that answer. Marie felt a grin creeping onto her face. "No. One last guess."

"String ... _or nothing_."

"Now that's cheating. But unfortunately for you, neither is correct."

Marie had won. The creature fell to its side and started sobbing like a child. Marie couldn't tell which persona was in control but still demanded her prize.

"Now, said you'd show me the way, so please do."

The creature stopped crying suddenly. "_Did we say so precious_?" The aggressive half said, "_Did we say so_?" He pulled his slim torso off the ground and looked menacingly over his bony shoulder, "_What has it got in its pocketses_?"

"A button." It wasn't technically a lie, she _did_ have a button in _a_ pocket. Something in Marie gut told her not tell the truth, for if she did she would regret it.

"_Show us then. Show us the buttonses_."

"You don't need to see anything. You lost."

"_Lost_?" He slowly crawled towards Marie, "_Lost_?" He reached around to the little pouch on his loincloth but something changed. His expression dramatically shifted from terrifying to worried. He reached with his other hand, but grew even more frenzied. "Where is it? _Where is it_?!" Marie could only watch in confusion and slight fear as both personas began searching frantically amongst the filth and waste for 'it'. "Where is it!? _No, no no no no no no! Precious!_" He darted across the water's edge and swiped his hands like a mad man. "No! _Curse us and splash us_, my precious is lost!"

Marie's hand slowly slid up her thigh to her waist, "What have you lost?"

"Mustn't ask us! Not its business! _Gollum ... Gollum_." He sunk down pathetically on the rocks and went deathly quiet. Marie took the chance to sneak the ring out from her pocket.

'_Don't let him see it.'_ A voice with told her.

The creature mumbled to itself and Marie could see him shaking. It wasn't from the cold, it was with anger. "_It stole it_." The shaking got worse as his head turned.

Marie began to back off, slowly and clumsily, never taking her eyes of the creature. She squeezed her hand tightly to secure the ring, ignoring the pain from her previous wounds.

"_It stole it_!" The two side of the creature melded into one very angry being that was about to explode with anger.A horrendous scream erupted from him and he threw a rock at Marie.

'_Run. Now.' _

The rock grazed the side of Marie's head, but did not inflict too much damaged. She took off like a hound back down into the cave with the creature close on her heels.

That's when she heard a deep drumming, coming from above. Its steady, hypnotic rhythm matched Marie's heartbeat.

"_Theif_!"

* * *

**So there we go. **

**I have a question for you guys. In the next chapter, Gandalf needs to be told that his burglar may be dead. Who should try and tell him?**

**Review and tell me who.**


	18. The Return

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Chapter 18 up finally. Hands up whose pumped after seeing the new Hobbit trailer, I admit I had a little fanspasm seeing Legolas and Thranduil. **

**Anyway, please review thanks :)**

* * *

Marie skidded to a halt, her large feet kicking up rocks. She had hit yet another dead end and the creature was getting closer. She had managed to out run him for a time, but each twist and turn took more precious time as she looked for the way out.

Her fist squeezed tighter, the gold ring still within.

'_Why the bloody hell do I still have this thing?'_ She looked hastily at her fist. This ring was what he wanted, so she should just give it back. Yet she couldn't.

'_He is going to kill you either way.'_

She automatically turned to go back but froze when she saw the gangly creature rush pass the path she had taken.

She was trapped.

That had to be a way out. She looked closer at the walls surrounding her and found a slim crack. She could see another path on the other side.

She slid herself through but got herself stuck mid way. The screaming was coming closer and Marie's heartbeat sped up once more. She turned her head and saw the creature back tracking until his glowing eyes spotted her.

With one last push she was though, but not any safer. She stumbled a little and the ring fell out of her hand onto a small patch of black dirt. Marie scrambled to retrieve it.

"_It's ours. It's ... OURS!"_ The creature's shadow could be seen through the crack.

Marie finally pulled her sword out to defend herself, and unknowingly slipped the gold band around her middle finger.

A heaviness fell over her body, like a wet blanket.

The world turned into a blur of dull greys and wispy illusions. Each noise was painfully long and echoed in her ears, and since when was the wind so loud?

Despite how lethargic her physical being was, her mind felt as light as mist.

In those first few seconds of surrealism, Marie had forgotten about her pursuer who came flying through the crack. Marie felt the breath before the scream building in her chest, but stopped it when the creature passed her completely and looked around wildly her.

He could not see her at all, yet she was in front of him.

Marie look at her hand, the gold band glowed brighter than a flame. Was it magic that coursed through her, weighing her to the earth?

"_Thief! Baggins!_" He screamed and continued down the path.

Marie followed quietly, watching the lingering figures the creature left behind.

xxxxx

"_Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung.  
You'll be beated and battered, from racks you'll be hung.  
You will lie down here and never be found.  
Down in the deep of Goblin town."_

The ten foot king 'danced' about the platform and sang in a shrilly voice you would not expect from such a grotesque monster. The goblins that circled the company pushed and prodded them to move along with the horrendous noise, as they had been forced to do the last four times the Goblin king had sung that verse. They could not do much with all their weapons piled up just out of reach, only grit their jaws and listening to the beat of an unseen drum.

The sound filled Goblin town from the lowest cave to the highest peak. It spurred the goblins to stamp their feet and strike chains across the walls to add volume and power to the noise while those who carted the heavy torture devices pulled harder up the rickety path to the Goblin King's throne.

The dwarves could either wait to be tortured for amusement or somehow fight their way out.

Thorin preferred the latter, but his axe and sword were currently being handled by two goblins with crusted backs.

"Well Mighty Thorin? Are you pleased with the entrainment thus far?" As the Goblin King cocked his head, his double chin jiggled. Thorin made his disgust all too clear to see. "The main event is yet to begin. I do wish that my little hole builder was still with us. Her headless corpse would have danced the night away for you."

The thought of the goblins performing such ignominy with Marie's corpse made Thorin's anger coil like a slimy eel in his gut.

"_Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung.  
You'll be beated and battered, from racks you'll be hung."_

The Goblin King started the song again and Thorin wanted to rip out his throat to make it stop. The only reason he did was due to the goblin holding Orcrist unleashing an ear piercing screech that catch everything and everyone's attention. The goblin had unsheathed the blade barely an inch when it tossed it to the floor as if it was diseased. The sight of the sliver metal sent all the goblins into a frenzy as they moved away, their king clawing at the back of his rotting throne as he stumbled back into it.

"I know that sword! It is the Goblin Cleaver! The Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks! Slash them!"

The goblins hissed and began beating the dwarves with clubs and chains as the king commanded. Thorin finally snapped and threw one goblin up over his head and into another. But five smaller goblins quickly latched onto him, pulling him onto his back.

"Kill them! Kill them all!"

Two of the goblins held Thorin by his arms, two at his legs and the remaining one pulled out a long jagged knife. Thorin watched the tip poised above his head.

"Cut off his head!"

The Goblin King's command was drowned out by an explosion of light, accompanied by an air blast that toppled the dwarves, the goblins and their king like books. The force was so great that some goblins were lifted off their feet and set face first into the torture equipment.

Where had that light come from?

While the goblins and dwarves struggled to pull themselves free from the mess, a tall silhouette emerged from behind the giant throne, a wooden staff in one hand and a long sword in the other. The figures' shoulders dropped as he let out a ragged breath he had been holding.

The light that had been sucked out of the cavern slowly returned and Thorin saw the face of one he did not expect to see.

"Gandalf." He murmured.

"Take up arms." The wizard said. "Fight. Fight!"

And so they did.

The dwarves shook off their captures, punching and head butting till they got to their feet. Dwalin swiped the goblin sitting on Thorin's chest, allowing him to toss the two holding his arms into the remaining two at his feet. Nori and Oin were closest to their weapons and started throwing them to their original owners, who put them to good use.

Goblins rushed at Gandalf once they had recovered but fell victim to the wizard. It was the first time the dwarves had seen him fight, and for one of his disposition he proved to be a dangerous opponent as he sliced and hacked his way to the dwarves.

"He wields the Foe Hammer!" The Goblin King squealed, "The Beater, bright as day!" The creature was helped by his attendants to his feet and he began stumbling towards Thorin, determined to have his head.

"Thorin!" Nori cried and held out Orcist.

Thorin grabbed the hilt and pulled hard. The sound of the blade scraping on the sheath created a beautiful sound that frightened off the smaller goblins. With the sword free, Thorin struck the Goblin King's oncoming staff. The force of it was so strong that the king tumbled backwards onto the weak edges of the platform. The wood cracked and the Goblin King's weight took him, his throne and ten more goblins down into the abyss.

"Follow me. Quickly!" Gandalf waved the company over with his staff and headed down a small path leading away from Goblin town. "Run!"

xxxxx

"_Wait, precious, wait! Gollum ... Gollum!_" The creature skidded out a tight path into another, then proceeded to jump in a circle.

It had been some time since Marie seemingly 'disappeared' and the creature was unknowingly showing her the way out by chasing a ghost. Marie kept a safe distance from the agitated being. He may not be able to see her, but he could at any given time smell her of hit her by accident. Her sword hung all but forgotten in her hand

But her luck seemed to be growing. The air in the tunnels smelt cleaner than before, and though the world was grey she could see light pecking around the corner up ahead.

He stopped his spinning and appeared to be staring at something to his left. Marie could not see for herself what had silenced him, but she hoped that it wasn't goblins.

She looked at her sword. It wasn't glowing.

The creature scampered back behind a rock as the muffled sounds of metal boots and weapons crashed together drew closer.

"Hurry now."

That was not a goblin's snarl, but the worried huff of a wizard. Marie felt the hope stir and the smile growing when the back of the Grey Wizard covered sight of the path. Thirteen small figures run passed, Marie could make out Fili's light hair, Bofur's ridiculous hat and Golin's twin axes.

They were alright.

She wanted to call out to them, but she remembered that she could not been seen and they must have thought she was dead.

She watched despondent as they continued on without her. Gandalf too disappeared down the path to freedom.

The creature, who had all but melded with the rock, finally moved from hiding and looked on at the wizard. His noisy breathing was slower now, calmer. Maybe this was the chance Marie needed to be free from him. But there was a slight problem.

The pathway was slim, and the creature stood in her way.

She wouldn't be able to get by without ... killing him.

The thought made her throat dry, and her palms sweaty. Her fingers turned her sword in her hand, it shouldn't be too hard.

'_Just do what Fili does, aim for the neck. It will be over quickly._' She raised the blade to the back of the skinny neck, ignoring the slight tremble of the tip. Once she had her aim, she pulled back slightly to stab the flesh.

She took shallow breath to calm herself, _'One move Marie, just one and it will be over.' _

But something happened that Marie would have never imagined.

The creature looked back down the tunnels, his wide eyes unknowingly meeting Maire's. She did not see anger or fear in those bright pools of blue, but she did see the tiny tear falling from the corner of his eye. It left a shimmering streak along his skin and was caught on his trembling lip.

Her sword was now only a hair's width from his neck, but what stayed her hand from slicing the skin was the pity.

Even though he wanted to kill her and feast on her limbs, she felt pity toward the creature. With a deep breath she sheathed her sword.

That was a mistake.

The creature's eyes became pinpoints and his nose flared like a rabid wolf. He knew she was there, and he would kill her instead.

Marie did the only logical and merciful thing to do.

She punched him in the nose. It wasn't pleasant at all, but it still moved the creature out of the way. He fell backwards onto the flat path and Marie leap over his writhing hands that retched aimless for her. She landed with the grace of drunk and bounced from wall to wall before regaining her balance. The light of the outside world beckoned her out of the darkness and away from the screaming creature.

"_Baggins! Curse it and crush it, we hates it forever!_"

xxxxx

The dwarves and Gandalf ran hard and fast down the side of the mountain, out of breath and worn ragged from their fight. Foe after foe did they slay but there was always another goblin lurking ahead. Their only saviour was the light of the sunset in the west behind the mountains. The goblins would not dare follow them until nightfall, so they ran far.

Only when there was a good mile between them and the cave's exit did Thorin and Gandalf slow the pace.

The wizard counted off the company, as was his new habit of late, while Thorin lent on his sword. His chest felt tight in the confines of his chainmail. Dwalin stopped by his side and patted his shoulder, "Ya alright there Thorin?" He asked, his voice husky from lack of air.

"Better."

Killing more than a handful of goblins made the king feel a little better, but not entirely.

"Fili, Kili twelve ... and Bomber. That makes thirteen."

The largest dwarf joined them at last after being left behind during the trek downhill, and the company was whole, save one.

It did not take long for Gandalf to notice his burglar's absence. "Where is Marie?"All the dwarves stopped gasping for air and froze. They were all thinking and dreading the same question. Who was going to tell Gandalf what happen? "Where is our hobbit?" Gandalf asked again. Fili and Kili looked to eachother, then to Balin who looked to Thorin.

Thorin held his tongue.

The tension was thickening.

"Where is she!?"

"She ..."

Everyone turned to the owner of the small voice, and poor Ori was at the centre of all the attention for once, "She was pulled over ... by a goblin." He croaked up.

"Pulled over ..." Gandalf repeated, "Speak Ori, how did this happen?"

But Ori lost his nerve and was pulled back in line by Dori. Balin took over explaining to spare him, "Miss Baggins was unfortunately attacked by the Goblin King. We tried to prevent such a fate but we ..." Balin shook his head, "We were unable to help her."

Gandalf's eyes were overflowing with disbelief and sadness, which he turned onto Thorin. The dwarf dared not look him in the eye.

"I left her in your care with the hope you would kept her safe, Thorin Oakensheild." Gandalf's voice grew load and thunderous. There was anger building up behind those words.

"I told you from the beginning, I would be responsible for Miss Baggins' fate." Thorin thundered back. "What happened was beyond my control, and do not think that we did not try to save her." He glared up at the wizard, trying to match his stare. "She should never have come, she never had any place amongst us to begin with. You dragged her into this quest knowing the dangers, you knew the risk."

"Thorin." Fili said, but was ignored by his uncle.

"Perhaps if you had let her be, she would not by lying at the bottom of the Misty Mountains dead."

"Oi! I'm not quite dead."

Thorin's mouth went dry and he was stunned into silence, something that rarely happened. The whole company turned shapely in the direction of the voice.

There, behind Balin stood Marie Baggins, hunched over as she tried to regain her breath.

"Marie Baggins. I have never been so happy to see anyone in all my life." Gandalf breathed, walked over the hobbit with a large smile. Balin let out a half sigh of relief and took Marie's hand. "You are welcomed sight indeed lass."

"Marie! You're alive." Kili and Fili rushed to her side, placing hands on her shoulders and back to see if she was indeed real. "How in Durin's name did you survive?" Fili asked. Marie shrugged, "I had an overdose of spontaneous luck." No one but Gandalf seemed to notice the she-hobbit discreetly pocketing something small, but he thought nothing of it, he was too happy. Marie was soon surrounded by the rest of the dwarves, who were all still in shock but still glad that she was in one piece.

Only Dwalin and Thorin remained apart.

"Fortune comes frequently to that one." Dwalin mutter.

"Aye." Was all Thorin could say.

Thorin took in her messy attire with a mixture of emotions. She was covered in white dust and stone flecks that stuck to her coat and her, half her face was painted with black blood while the other half was smudged with dirt and her own blood. Her tiny hands and hobbit feet were red raw and when her eyes met his, he saw they were bloodshot and sunken in to her head.

She had been to hell.

But she was back ... with them.

She could have escaped out back to the Hidden Valley like she had wanted to, but she came back to him ... to them.

A sudden weight was lifted from Thorin's heart and he felt he could breathe easy again, yet he cast his gaze down in a moment of private shame.

The reunion was cut short by the faint howling coming from the mountain.

It was a howl they had hoped not to hear again.

Wargs.


	19. The Defiler

**Diclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Note: Azog's dialogue is in English for this scene. Feedback is always welcomed, so please review. Thanks guys.**

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_The reunion was cut short by the faint howling coming from the mountain._

_It was a howl they had hoped not to hear again._

_Wargs._

The company tensed as the howling grew louder. Each of the dwarves tightened their large fingers around each of their weapons.

Marie that the cold that washed over her skin was fear, but soon realised that the sunlight had begun to disappear behind the trees, turning the world violet and blue.

In the dark, the orcs would have the advantage.

Marie could already feel the earth tremble under her feet from the pounding paws of many ... _many _beasts.

"Out of the frying pan ..." Thorin hissed.

"And into the fire." Gandalf added. "Run!"

Marie's legs were still burning from her long run downhill to catch up with the company, so to have to run again only increased the fire pumping through her.

The company moved swiftly, dodging in and out of the trees as though to chase the fading sunlight. "They're coming!" Bomber yelled.

Marie looked over her shoulder and could see the glowing yellow eyes, even the glint of a fang.

She sucked in hard and pushed herself to go faster, but fatigue was already taking hold of her weak, sleep deprived body and it was taking every ounce of her will not to trip up herself.

But however, she did.

She tried to steady herself by ended up landing on a knee. This ended up saving her life as one of the large wargs that had finally caught up with the company leapt over her and skidded on the dried leaves and rocks. It snapped its jaws at Marie but was swamped by Thorin, Gloin and Dwalin who proceeded to kill it.

Kili stopped running and came back to scoop the hobbit up and back onto her feet. "Come on Marie." He clutched her hand so tight she had to swallow her yelping as he pulled her along.

"It's a dead end!" Nori called from up ahead.

It was ... literally.

The dwarves that had taken the lead came to a halt at a pointed edge of a cliff. They had run themselves into a corner with no way out, and to top it all off the sun had completely set, leaving only the light of a half moon hidden behind clouds.

'_What now?'_ Marie looked up at the tall tree. A thought sprung into mind and she pulled her hand out from Kili's.

"Marie, what are you doing?" He asked as he watched her run to the nearest tree and leap up to the lowest hanging branch. She pulled of an almost graceful somersault around it until she sat firmly on the branch. She ignored the sting of the bark on her wounds and the ach in her back to relish fact she still had it after so many years.

"Well come on then!' She beckoned the young dwarf and his brother before pulling herself up onto the next branch.

"Into the trees. Climb!" Gandalf ordered the rest of the dwarves, "All of you, climb."

The younger dwarves climbed with ease while the older dwarves helped one another up. "Here Balin." Marie held out her hand to him and pulled the dwarf onto the branch. She hopped across to allow him room. Thorin was the last to climb as he stayed to make sure all his men had made it. He just made it up just in time as the rest of the pack swarmed the base of trees.

"How in blazes did they find us here?" He growled, coming up beside Marie.

"I do not know." Balin answered, "They must have been tracked us this whole time from the Valley."

"But there weren't this many before." Marie muttered.

There must have been more than thirty wargs, more than twice the orc pack from the Great East Road. They barked loudly at the company above them, snapping their huge jaws together with a sickening crunch. Marie gripped the branch above to secure herself. These wargs looked even more intimidating in the night, and their beady eyes glowed menacingly in the minimal moonlight. Even the few orc riders she could see looked more threatening than the first time.

'_Gandalf I truly hope you a brilliant plan of escape.' _

Marie scanned the trees for the wizard. She finally spotted his grey hat at the top of the tree situated right on the cliff's edge. He was holding a large moth close to lips and looked to be whispering to it. With a delicate puff the moth fluttered up into the sky and Gandalf watched it disappear into the night. Marie severely hoped that there was meaning behind his actions and it wasn't just an unfortunate case of slaphappy.

A loud snarl that overrode the other wargs brought Marie back to the present situation. She watched the wargs back down to make way for a large white warg, climbing onto a boulder at the whim of its rider.

The rider was just as large as the beast, in fact it was larger than the other orcs. Even with the moon hidden Maire could see the colour of its skin.

It was white.

Some instinct within Marie already knew who this orc was, even before she heard Thorin whisper it in disbelief.

Azog the Defiler.

He was as just as Balin had described. He was a giant beast, larger than a mortal man, his body and face covered in red scars. In one hand he held a rusted mace and in the other ... twisted pieces of steel stuck out of a gangrenous stump where his other arm should have been.

The Pale Orc sniffed the air long and hard. "_Do you smell it?_" He said to his minions. His voice slow and dangerously slick, "_The scent of fear?_"

The orcs hissed and nodded.

Azog locked eyes with his lifelong enemy.

Marie could feel Thorin tense beside her.

"_I remember your father reeked of it ... Thorin, son of Thrain_."

"It can not be ..."

Marie looked to the dwarf. Azog's words had struck him and she could see the painful emotions on his face.

Azog pointed his mace at Thorin, "_That one is mine. Kill the others!_" He growled and set his pack on them. The wargs ran at the trees and launched themselves up into the branches, some trying to climb them while others tore at the wood to get to the dwarves. The trees shook violently from the barrage of attacks and all the company could do was hold on for their lives.

"_Drink in their blood_!" Azog commanded the wargs, his orcs waiting with pointed blades for their share of gore.

One of Marie's feet lost grip on the branch and she felt herself falling backwards. She automatically reached out for something to hold onto to, and the first thing she grabbed was Thorin's arm. Instead of giving her a glare of annoyance like Maire expected, he took hold of her arm and pulled her back up, securing her to the branch once more. He did not let her go, even as the tree began to tilt. The wargs had shaken the tree so hard that its roots had been upturned and the tree began to fall.

Thorin yelled at the hobbit and Balin to jump the next tree at the two collided. More trees fell, forcing the others to leap like squirrels to the next perch, just to escape their fate bellow. Marie would have once found this an exciting game in her youth, now it was terrifying.

The only tree that did not fall was the very last tree on the cliff, and heavens forbid it should tip over and send the company of dwarves, the hobbit and the wizard to their deaths.

The wargs swarmed and one by one stared clawing at the base, digging up the roots.

"Gandalf!" Marie heard Bofur from up above her, "What do we do!?"

Marie looked up since it was better than looking down and watched the wizard pluck a single pine cone from the tree. He brought it close to his staff blew on it, sending tiny flecks of fire flying. The pine cone caught light and Gandalf threw it towards the wargs.

The small fire ball whizzed through the air and landed in the scattered remnants of the destruction the wargs had caused. Fire broke out and consumed the fallen trees, while the wargs howled and ran back to escape the hungry flames.

"Fili, Nori!" Gandalf called and tossed down two red hot pine cones. The dwarves caught them and found more to light. The darkness lifted as the fire grew and grew as more fireballs were thrown down at the enemy. Marie plucked one for herself, "Here Marie." Kili put his to Marie's and the two began to sizzle and crack from the heat. It hurt Marie's hands, so much that she had to toss the flaming cone without looking where it was aimed. It hit a warg on the snout and sent it running with its tail between its legs.

"Nice one Marie!" Kili laughed.

A wall of fire now separated the company from the orc pack, the wargs fearing the heat and flames. Marie could see the scowling face of Azog as the pack retreated.

The dwarves sheered for their victory, but all the shaking from their celebrating was more than the tree could take. The brittle stone of the cliff's edge cracked and the tall pine tipped further and further over and until it was almost horizontal.

The dwarves and Marie dangled helplessly, Ori's branch broke and he was forced to cling to Dori's boot. "Mr Gandalf!" He called out to the wizard. All Gandalf could do was hold out his staff for Dori to take hold of.

Marie tried to pull herself up further onto the trunk, "Balin are you alright?" She looked across at him. He was caught between two smaller branched, one move and they would have snapped.

"Been in worse." He huffed.

"Thorin are you ...?" Marie asked, but when she turned to look at him, she fell into silence.

Thorin was rising up slowly, he gaze fixed on the Pale Orc and his steed. He unsheathed his elvish sword, the blade singing louder and clearer than ever before.

Marie had seen Thorin frustrated, she had seen him angry, even enraged. But never had she seen someone so filled with pure hate, his eyes were no longer the hue of the sky but the colour of the flames. He hooked his oak shield onto his free arm and Marie just knew something horrible was about to take place.

Thorin stood and began a slow decent down the pine trunk. His momentum picked up as he neared the flames and the giant. Azog sat with his arm open, welcoming the challenge with an evil grin.

'_What is he doing?_' Marie feared for the dwarf king as revenge finally held full sway over him, his sword raised high above him as he launched himself at Azog. _'No Thorin. Don't ... it's not an even fight.'_

The orc kicked his white warg and the beast leapt off the boulder. With one massive paw, it knocked Thorin onto his back as it passed over him. Marie felt her chest clench tightly, like she had been the one stuck by the warg.

Thorin was stunned only for a moment, but his struggle to get t his feet proved too long. Azog's beast turned and made for another pass, the giant orc swinging his mace into Thorin's chest. The sound of metal colliding with flesh spurred the company to try and move to held their leader, but the tree shook more and more and branched split left and right.

'Do something.' A voice told Marie. '_But what? What could I do?_ Anything. Help him. _How?_'

While she argued with herself, the warg trapped Thorin in its jaw, sinking its teeth further into its prey. Thorin's cries of pain made were like a blade being jammed into Marie's stomach, her breathing quicken with every passing second she watched the warg clamp down harder onto Thorin.

'_I can't ... I can't do anything_. Mariellena Baggins for once in your life do something!'

Thorin struck the beast's snout, and in return the warg tossed him against the rocks like a discarded doll.

Marie wanted to call out his name, her voice was lost.

"_Bring me the dwarf's head_." Azog ordered an orc prowling behind him.

'_Stand up.' _

Marie moved as the orc did, standing tall on the trunk.

'_Draw your sword.'_

The glowing blade seemed brighter than before as she pulled it free. The orc took its time approaching Thorin, like it was enjoying his inability to move or reach his sword.

'_Run ... Run!'_

Marie moved one foot, then the other, and she ran. She ran faster than ever before. She passed through flames and did not feel the heat, she trampled through broken branches and cared not for splinters.

Just as the foul creature raised up its curved blade to complete the deed, Marie's tiny body slammed into its side and knocked it clean off its feet. It squealed like a pig and tried to push the hobbit off but Marie held her sword in both hands and proceeded to stab the orc's chest over and over, screaming with every thrust.

Something clicked in Marie's mind, like a rough, primal instinct buried beneath the hobbit she was. All she knew was to kill or be killed.

She finally stopped when the orc no longer moved, the light of her sword could barely be seen under all the blood as she pulled it from the corpse. She stumbled back a little and placed herself between Thorin and the pack. She held out her sword and glared at the orcs.

Azog just laughed at her attempted to scare them.

"_Kill her_."

The orcs and wargs moved in closer. She beared her teeth and swung her sword like an axe, but the wargs snapped back at her.

Marie braced herself , but aid finally came from the dwarves. Fili, Kili and Dwalin had managed to join the fray and went about hacking up as many wargs as they could. With this new distraction, the only one left facing Marie was Azog. She let out a weak battle cry and tried to stab the white warg, but it not knocked her to the side with one swing of its head.

Marie felt her burst of energy coming to its end, right when she really needed it.

She rolled onto her back and found Azog staring down at her. His eyes when bloodshot and bright.

"Ssssscccrrrreeeeaaaacccchhhhh!"

Marie felt a gush of wind from behind and suddenly two wargs disappeared. It took a moment for Marie's eyes to adjust, for a moment she thought she had seen an eagle.

But it was too big to be an eagle.

But there it was again, swooping down from the heavens. There was another, and another. Giant eagle, wings pounding so hard that the fires swelled beneath, talons plucking up the wargs like field mice. They numbered only ten but the pack scattered once again, fleeing the eagles and the flames.

Were these friends ... or foes?

With Azog distracted, Marie crawled over to Thorin's side.

His eyes were closed and his breaths were few. Deep set cuts marred his jaw and nose, and Marie could see blood on his fur coat. Without thinking she touched the top of his raven head.

"Thorin?" She called gently, "Thorin can you hear me?"

But he gave no answers.

"Ssssscccrrrreeeeaaaacccchhhhh!"

Hair blew across Marie's face and she fell backwards. An eagle had descended upon Thorin, taking hold of him and his blade in its golden claws, but the famed oak shield fell from his limp arm. Marie watch amazed and relieved as the creature took Thorin far from harm.

One by one the dwarves, fighting ot traped on the tree, were carried off on the backs of the eagles.

'_Gandalf_,' Marie shook her head, '_This was your .._' "_BLLAAAAGHHHH_"

Marie's thoughts were cut short by a very angry orc, one that was charging at her with the intent to kill. But she too was saved by the great birds, one catching her in its talons before dropping her on the back of another. The feathers helped her have less of a rough landing.

Marie gripped the bird's neck with her free hand good and tight as the aerie of eagles flew off towards into the night, leaving behind the burning pines and defeated orcs.

xxxxxx

Azog screamed out as his prey once again evaded his. He had them in his grasp and they still slipped away.

He almost had his vengeance, the Dwarf King's skull would have completed it.

He would not escape next time.

"_Follow them_!" He growled in the Black Speech. The remains of his pack meekly nodded and follow their command. His wargs stopped licking their wounds and ran into the night, whimpering like pups. They were wounded from this defeat and lacked any will to question.

"_Where would the go Master?_" One orc asked.

"_East. Send all parties East_. _I want the dwarf scum alive_."

If there was anything Azog had learned from this encounter, it was that Thorin Oakenshield had shown him a weakness.

It came in the form of a tiny creature with emerald eyes.

"_Bring them to me alive, the Dwarf King and the Emerald Eyed Whore_."

He would make them suffer, Thorin Oakenshield and his woman.


	20. The Final Acceptance

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.**

**Please review. The more feedback means the more I can improve future chapters. Love you all for the support thus far.**

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For what seemed like a lifetime, Marie didn't dare to look up from the back of the eagle. Only once did she peek out from behind her hair to see the horizon coloured indigo before burying her face back into the soft feathers, feeling the strain of every muscle it used through her cheek. The eagles had flown all through the night into the oncoming dawn, bringing them hopefully somewhere safe.

Her hands were shaking and she had to take slow even breaths to regulate her race heartbeat. She was as lively as a fieldmouse on the first day of spring, every one of her senses felt alert and her mind kept replaying the same moments over and over again.

She had actually killed that orc, willingly and gladly killed it.

And she had been ready to kill again ... all for the sake of protecting Thorin.

'_He was in danger Marie. You did it to help, not to enjoy it. You wanted to save him ... why?'_

This wild, unbalanced, passionate feeling frightened Marie, but it was passing now. Marie once again felt self control at her fingertips. She managed, with great care, to wedge her sword back into its sheath.

She felt less like a killer now.

The eagle's screech vibrated through its whole body and Marie trembled with it. Light bounced off the tip of its wing and caught in her eye. Marie didn't think twice when she sat upright to escape it.

'_Has the sun already rose?'_

When she opened her eyes, she witnessed the golden sphere rising over a world bathed in white and gold.

The eagle tilted and Marie got a better look at this different world, one that existed high above her own. The clouds rolled across the sky like a vast sea breaking on the peaks of the mountains, the cold wind biting at her red cheeks, the other eagles soared bellow and above her.

'_Amazing.'_

Marie's eyes forgot about the blinding dawn as she stared in awe at the gold cast by the sun weaving through the clouds, like veins. The Shire, in comparison to all what she saw before her, seemed so small now. Marie raised her arms little by little out to the side, letting the air currents pull and push at them like the eagle's wings. The last remnants of her nerves washed away.

'_Just amazing.'_

A voice drifted on the winds, breaking Marie's trance. It was a voice drowned in fear, swelling in the gusts from the north. It called out again, louder and more desperate.

It was Fili's voice.

"Thorin!"

Marie's arms dropped back to the eagle's back, and her body grew heavy. _'Thorin? He's ... he's hurt ...' _

Her eyes began searching for him, but only spotted the dark silhouette of the aerie diving into the white sea and Marie thought that she would be swept off the winged creature by it. But they passed through like ships in the mist.

The light was stronger when they broke through the clouds. The aerie glided over forest covered mountains, moving with the shapes and curves. Marie caught sight of Gandalf's pointed hat pass under her, and thought she had seen Dwalin encased in his eagle's talons as they turned.

The aerie looked to be heading towards a lone stone eyot that sat on the edge of the mountains. They circled it, and Marie was close to slipping at the current angle she was on. One eagle gracefully landed on the flat surface of the eyot's peak, a limp figure slipping from its talons before it took off again. The figure did not move.

'_Thorin.'_

The largest of the eagles was next to land, and Gandalf dismounted it was haste to rush to the fallen dwarf.

Marie's eagle carried her to the eyot next, talons gripping the ancient rock with ease. It lowered its neck to allow the hobbit to slide off safely. Marie began to run to Gandalf, but resisted. Thorin was so still that one may have thought that he was a corpse, which sent nauseous waves of recognition through her. This overwhelming sense of loss ...

She could only watch and hope that the wizard may yet save Thorin.

Marie could not see the wizard's face from under his hat and beard but his hand hovered over Thorin's face, like he was casting a spell.

The other dwarves where dropped off around their king, but Marie did not see them or their mounts flying around them. All she saw was the grey of Gandalf's cloak and the black of Thorin's hair.

Marie's hands tightened around the cuffs of her coat.

'_Please don't make me go through this again.'_

Gandalf moved his hand away from Thorin's face and the dwarf finally stirred. Marie heard his sharp intake of breath.

He was alive.

Marie looked down at her feet as the breath she had been holding escaped her lips, raking her fingers through her filthy hair. She thought she heard Thorin murmur something but didn't take too much interest in it. That is until she heard her name being said.

"It's alright. Marie is here and she's quite safe." Marie looked back. Gandalf was rising to his feet as he spoke, while Kili and Dwalin were helping Thorin to his feet. But instead of welcoming the help, Thorin shrugged away his nephew and comrade.

His eyes fixed on Marie.

"You. What where you doing?" He growled. "You nearly got yourself kill."

Marie glanced at Gandalf, but he just stayed silent and off to the side. The company stayed well out of this brewing conflict as well. Marie knew she was on her own with this one.

"Did I not say that you would be a burden?" Thorin approached her like a hunter, and all Marie could do was stand her ground. "That you had no place in the wild? No place amongst us?"

'_That you did.'_ Was what Marie wanted to say, but thought it would be wiser to say nothing and kept her eye downward. She mentally prepared herself for another speech on who inadequate she was in the company and how useless she was.

What he said next however shocked everyone.

"I have never been so wrong in all my life."

His voice changed from its harshness to an emotional solace, and Marie was enveloped in his arms. At first Marie did not know how to react, but the realization of what this meant made her heart thump in her chest.

Even the dwarves and Gandalf understood that this moment signified Marie's complete acceptance into the company, now that Thorin had finally come round. Gandalf nodded in approval while the dwarves gave a little cheer.

What they couldn't see was just how tight he held the little hobbit. Marie thought that he could squeeze the life out of her if he chose to.

She had never been held so strongly before by anyone, and never had she felt so safe.

It seemed only right to return his hug, but maybe not as hard as his. Marie's arms barely reached around his broad frame and her face was buried in his should. The familiar scent of iron and wood made her cheeks flush but thankfully no one saw it.

The moments passed by quickly and at last Thorin released her, resting his hands on her slight shoulders as he looked her in the eye. "I am sorry I doubted you." He said. Marie believed the sincerity of it and just shrugged.

"It's alright. Perfectly normal for you to do so. I'm not a warrior ... or a burglar."

A gentle chuckle run through the company, but Thorin just smiled at her. Marie had never seen him smile before, but she thought it suited him far better than a scowl. It even made him more handsome.

'_Handsome? Since when did ...?'_

"Ssssscccrrrreeeeaaaacccchhhhh!"

The eagles let out a chorus of cries as they fly off to the north. The company turned to watch the great beasts become dark specks in the sky.

Marie glanced back at Thorin, but the dwarf was staring at something behind her. Whatever it was, it had his attention completely and Marie was keen to know what. She followed his eyes and saw, far in the distance a dark shape rising up.

"Is that what I think it is?" She asked. Soon all the dwarves and Gandalf were looking. Thorin stepped closer to the edge of the eyot and Marie could detect a slight limp in his walk. He was still injured and need of attention, but for now all that mattered was what they could see in the east.

A single peak.

"Erebor. The Lonely Mountain and last of the great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle Earth." Gandalf said.

"Our home." Thorin added with pride.

"A raven!" Oin cried from the back, pointing to the pass bird as it headed east. "The birds are returning to the mountain."

Marie stifled her laughter when she saw what bird it was.

"That my dear Oin is a thrush." Gandalf corrected the old dwarf.

"We'll take it as a sign." Thorin looked down Marie, who stood at his side, "A good omen."

"Your right." Marie nodded and hooked her thumbs into her waistcoat pockets. The tip of her thumb traced the cool band of gold hidden there, and Marie was filled with newfound confidence. "I do believe the worst is behind us."


End file.
